Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning
by chubby redburn
Summary: AU OOC (to varying degrees) Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville during their first year at Hogwarts. A variation on Philosopher's (Sorcerer's) Stone. R&R if you wish. Skip over if you must. {completed}
1. Default Chapter

**_Disclaimer:_** Unless you have just recently returned from your ten year voyage to Uranus, you'll realize that all of these characters and situations belong to J. K. Rowling and her various publishers. In other words, this is a work of fan fiction. It is done without expectation of gain or any claim of originality. I own nothing but debts. If you wish to sue for a share of that, knock yourself out.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 1

The compartment was empty save for one tall skinny boy playing a concertina of all things. Harry remembered him as part of the large group of redheads whose mother had given to Harry the secret of finding platform 9 ¾. The boy seemed lost in his music as the world sped by the window. Harry did not want to disturb him but the prospect of roaming the aisles of the cars until they reached Hogwarts was unappealing to Harry as well. He steeled his nerves and slid open the door to the compartment.

"Excuse me," Harry began nervously. "Do you mind sharing? Every other one seems full."

The Boy casually nodded towards the empty bench opposite him but kept playing. "I have no right to block you. After all, we are all going to the same place."

"Yeah, Hogwarts," Harry said as he entered the compartment.

The boy stopped playing the concertina and looked at Harry in puzzlement. "Hogwarts? This train is going to the Apple Grove Academy of Sorcery."

"Apple Grove!" Harry exclaimed. "But I thought this was the Hogwarts Express!"

"No, this is the Apple Grove Special," the Boy replied assuredly as he sat his instrument on the seat beside him. "The train for Hogwarts leaves from platform 3 4/9."

"But my ticket… Hagrid.." Harry stammered as he frantically searched through his pockets. He finally found the elusive, old fashion looking ticket in his back trouser pocket.

_Hogwarts Express_

_Platform 9 ¾ _

_11 am_

_ September 1_

The ticket was very clear. Confused, Harry looked down at the redheaded boy who stared back at him with a blank face.

"You bloody todger!" Harry laughed as realization came to him. He flopped down on the bench "I was about to run screaming for the conductor or the engineer."

The boy, a small grin playing on his lips, extended his hand. "Ronald Bilius Weasley," He said. "Or simply Ron."

"Harry James Potter," Harry replied as he clasped Ron's hand. "Harry, if you will."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "_The boy who lived? _I doubt if you will have to introduce yourself to very many, Harry. Especially if you do have the scar that everyone says that you have."

Harry pushed the hair from his forehead briefly exposing the jagged, lightening bolt shaped scar.

"It's been weird this last month," Harry said. "I spent eleven years being treated like something nasty on the bottom of a shoe now I find out that I'm both a wizard and famous."

"Rumor has it that you were hidden among the muggles after your parents died," Ron said. "Is that so or is it still a secret."

"If it's supposed to be a secret no one told me," replied Harry with a trace of bitterness in his voice. "I lived with my aunt and uncle and cousin who are muggles. In fact, I had no idea about whom or what I was until my eleventh birthday when Hagrid showed up with my Hogwarts letter. I never knew about wizards or even how my parents really died until a month ago. I don't remember anything and no one bothered to tell me anything except for lies. "

Ron shrugged his shoulders slightly. "No one truly knows what happened that night but for most people it was enough that Voldemort was gone."

Harry frowned. "I thought that you weren't supposed to speak his name. At least that's what Hagrid told me."

"Yeah, most people don't," Ron acknowledged. "But Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, always said that fear of the name increased fear of the man. I have spent the last couple of years trying to face my own fears and overcome them so it seemed to be good advice to me."

Harry, who had a closet full of demons himself, had his curiosity piqued. "What fears have you faced?" he asked trying to sound causal.

"Oh, spiders, failure…" Ron began.

"Failure?"

"Well, failure may be a poor way of saying it," Ron said sheepishly. "You see, I am the youngest son in my family. Percy, Fred, and George are still at Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie have finished there. Bill is what every boy wants to grow up to be like. Charlie was a quidditch star now working with dragons. Percy's a prefect. Fred and George are pranksters but they still get pretty good marks., I was afraid of somehow not living up to the standards that people expect of the Weasleys at Hogwarts."

"What people," asked Harry.

Ron grinned again. "That's one thing I learned. The faceless people that worried me don't really exist. I mean, who in the world has ever heard of Ron Weasley let alone care about how well he does in a school they don't know about."

"So how did you beat back that fear?" Harry asked genuinely interested by now.

Ron gave Harry a small smile. "I learned or _internalized_ as Mum's Child rearing advice books called it, that I am Ron, not my brothers. I can do only my best and let the chips fall where they may. I'll tell you for nothing; that was harder to learn then learning to love our eight-legged neighbors."

Harry laughed at a sudden absurd vision of having the neighborhood arachnids over for tea but he sobered quickly. "I'm afraid that someone will come up and tell me that's there has been a mistake and I'll have to go back to Privet Drive," he admitted to his surprise. "Or that I'll be so stupid at magic that I'll be tossed out. I don't know the first thing about magic other then I want to learn how to use it more then anything."

"Don't be so concerned about it, Harry," Ron reassured him. "Every year there are some students plucked out from the muggles and invited to Hogwarts. They haven't a clue about magic yet they do fine and so will you."

"I hope so," Harry said.

"You don't want me to force you to read all seven volumes of the _Gretchen Goodchilde Magical Parenting_ series, do you?" Ron asked. "Volume five is about our age group or as she calls us, the 'tweens."

"'Tweens?"

"Between early school age and puberty," Ron explained. "Why not just say older child is beyond me but there you go. Mum devoured the books and, to be honest, while most of it seemed pretty much what I shoveled out of our chicken coop there was some bits of good mixed in. Of course, the other day I made the mistake of saying that the books went from Tit to Teen."

"You didn't!" chortled Harry slapping the seat beside him.

"Mum didn't think it was funny but Dad howled." Ron answered. "That saved me from extra chores, no doubt."

Harry eased into the corner of the seat and extended his legs. Much of the tension that he had felt since his uncle had left him standing bewildered at the lack of a platform 9 ¾ earlier in the day had dissipated in what was really just a few minutes of conversation with Ron. For the first time that Harry could remember someone was actually friendly with him. An ember of happiness threatened to burst into flame when it was doused by an icy blast of fear.

"But what if I'm no good?" Harry asked drawing his legs back to him.

"Harry, Hogwarts isn't the only school of magic in Britain but it is by far the best," Ron said kindly. "I have no idea as to how Hogwarts selects those to whom they extend invitations to study there but they have a very, very high graduation rate. Those who do leave generally leave for reasons other then failing marks. Just remember, they asked you to study with them. Dumbledore could have left you where you were with none the wiser yet here you are. If Albus Dumbledore believes that you will succeed at Hogwarts, you probably will but if you believe that you will succeed at Hogwarts, you definitely will."

"Are you always this positive?" Harry asked trying to push back his anxiety.

"As the old adage goes, it's better to light a candle then curse the darkness," Ron replied. "Or, as Dad says, succeed for it surprises your friends and confounds your enemies."

Harry smiled. "Your parents sound pretty cool."

"Yeah, I like them even if Mum can never remember that I don't like corned beef sandwiches," Ron said as he pulled a large sandwich from his pocket, sitting it on the seat beside him.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Does the Apple Grove Academy really exist?"

Ron grinned mischievously. "Yes, it does. It's over in the Netherlands though, in Zeeland. Many of my family studied at _De Academie van het Appelbosje van Hekserij._ My mother's Dutch although she was born here in England. Her family moved here during World War II."

"Do you speak Dutch?" Harry asked.

"Ja doe ik mijn litteken bedekte gezichtsvriend," Ron replied. "Sometimes when Mum gets mad she slips in and out of Dutch. It's pretty funny really unless you are the target of her anger. Then, of course, it's _Yes Mum, No Mum, Never again Mum_. But I picked up a lot of the language from those sessions."

Harry nodded. "She was really nice to me back at the station. Hagrid forgot to tell me how to get on the right platform. If I hadn't heard your mother say 'muggles' I'd probably still be in London wondering what to do. If you telephone her anytime soon please thank her for me."

"What does telephone mean exactly?" asked Ron.

Harry glanced over suspiciously. "I don't see where the joke is."

Ron raised his palms up. "No joke, Harry. I don't know what it means. You have to remember that the wizarding world does things differently from the muggle world."

"How do wizards talk to each other over a distance than if they don't use telephones?" Harry asked.

"We use fireplaces. Most wizards have their fireplaces connected to the floo network. You can talk to anyone in the world who is linked to the network," Ron explained. "There are also magic mirrors. Some witches and wizards are true telepaths so they can see and hear and talk over great distances using only their minds but that is a very rare talent right in there with being a parselmouth or being able to become invisible using only your will."

"A telephone is a machine that allows people to talk to each other," Harry explained. "It does the same thing as your fireplaces but over wires and through satellites."

"Satellites?"

Harry spent the next hour discussing how muggles did things. He stopped briefly to buy some sweets from a cart that came around. Around pumpkin pastries and chocolate frogs Harry tried to explain muggle technology although how a computer worked was beyond him. He was amazed that Ron had so little knowledge of the everyday things that Harry had taken for granted for eleven years. Satellites, television, light bulbs, telephones, sewing machines, and football were as alien to Ron as the far side of the moon. Oddly enough, he knew a great deal about cars.

"Dad has one in the barn," He explained. "We tore it down and rebuilt it three times. It runs as good as the day it was made and it can do a few things that the original engineers never thought about. What I really want is to get my hands on a motorcycle but Mum would probably have kittens if I did."

"But haven't you ever been in any muggle home or building and seen how they do things?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head. "No. Witches and wizards in the big cities or even the towns probably know a lot more about muggle ways then I do but I live miles from a town of any size to speak of and have rarely been in one. My trips to London have been confined to the train station and Diagon Alley."

Aren't there any muggles where you live?" asked Harry

"Sure but I just never hung around them," Ron replied. "I have five brothers and a sister. I guess with such a large family I never felt the need to look to outsiders for friendship."

"I would love to have brothers and sisters," Harry said forlornly. "All I have are relatives who hate me."

"Yeah, Voldemort cheated you out of a lot of things," Ron said sympathetically. "But Hogwarts may be a turn around for you. It can't replace family but you will probably make a ton of friends there. After all these years, my parents are still close to some of their old schoolmates especially those that were in their form and house."

"Hagrid told me about the houses and some kid I met at the robe shop was going on about them," Harry said. "He wanted to be in Slytherin. I think Hagrid said that he had been in Griffindor,"

"My parents and all my brothers were placed in Griffindor," Ron said. "Some place a lot of importance to the house but it really doesn't matter. You go to the same classes as everyone else."

"Slytherin," he continued. "Has a bad reputation because most of the Deatheaters were in there but not all Slytherins became Deatheaters and not all Deatheaters were in Slytherin so there you go."

"Hagrid and that kid seemed to look down on Huffleduff house," Harry said in hopes of getting Ron's view on them. He wasn't disappointed.

"It's Huffle_puff_Harry," Ron corrected. "Everyone supposedly is sorted by what trait is strongest in them. Griffindor is courage, Hufflepuff is tenacity, Ravenclaw is intelligence, and Slytherin is cunning. Anyway, the badgers always seem dull and plodding to the others who look for quick ends to problems they face."

"Badgers?" asked Harry.

"Each house has an animal mascot," Ron explained. "Lion, badger, eagle, and serpent. Didn't you notice the Hogwarts shield on your letter?"

"Yeah, I just didn't make the link," Harry said. "So what house do those who are scared spitless go in to?"

Ron laughed. "Well, let's see. If you will forgive me for saying so, you've been kicked around somewhat by fate and your..ah.. family…"

"That sums it up in a nutshell," Harry agreed.

"Yet, when given the slimmest chance, you seized the opportunity to leave what was known for the unknown," Ron said. "That shows courage to me. When I made the joke about the train's destination, you immediately grabbed your ticket looking for evidence to prove or disprove my statement so I'm guessing that you're fairly smart, at least. And, again forgive me for bringing it up, but surviving your family, more or less whole, probably means that you are both cunning and tenacious."

"In other words," Harry said sardonically. "Who knows where I'll end up?"

"As I said it really doesn't matter," Ron said. "But I hope that we are placed in the same house."

"Yeah, me too," Harry said startling himself by the depth of his hope. So long friendless, Harry felt that he had finally found a friend. Maybe Ron was right and Hogwarts would be a turnaround for him at long last. He let that small ember of happiness grow just a little warmer.

The compartment door slid open and a flushed faced, worried looking boy poked his head in. "Have either of you seen a large toad? I've misplaced him. His name is Trevor," he said rapidly.

"No," Harry said.

"Does he answer to his name?" Ron asked with the same blank look he had given Harry when they first met.

"What? Uh, no," the boy said. "If you see him, I'm three compartments forward. Please bring him to me."

"Who are you?" Ron asked.

"What?" the boy asked. "I'm Neville, Neville Longbottom."

"Have a seat, Neville," Ron said as he picked his concertina up from the bench and sat it on the floor before him. "Do you have your wand?"

"Yes," Neville admitted hesitantly as he sat beside Ron. "But I am not good at magic."

"Nonsense," Ron said confidently. "You are a Longbottom, one of the leading and most respected wizarding families in Britain. More magic courses through your body then in ten average wizards."

With trepidation, Neville pulled his wand from his robes. Nervous sweat popped out on his now pale face. Harry could not understand Neville's reluctance but Ron just smiled encouragingly.

"I'm sure you knew the spell," He said to Neville.

Neville was raising his wand when a bushy haired girl appeared at the open doorway.

"Oh, are you going to use magic to find your toad?" she said.

She sat down beside Harry. "Well, let's see it then," she said in an unconsciously bossy voice. "I tried a few simple spells but they all worked, at least until the Ministry of Magic sent me an owl telling me that I was doing something illegal. I really think that they ought to have mentioned that in the orientation but they didn't."

"I didn't see either of you two there so I assume that you come from wizarding families. I come from an ordinary family and was quite surprised to get my letter from Hogwarts. We thought it was a bit of fun until we, my mother and I, went to Diagon Alley. I much rather learn Magic then anything my local school could have taught me."

Ron raised a hand.

"Yes," the girl asked.

"Take time to breathe," Ron replied.

"Sorry," the girl said. 'I normally don't talk all that much but when I get excited I'm an unstoppable chatterbox. I hate that about myself really but what can one do? I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. I assume that you have met Neville. And you are?"

"Ron Weasley."

"Harry Potter."

"Are you really?" Hermione asked as Neville's jaw dropped. "I've read about you. You're quite famous although you aren't what I expected."

"Most people have found me disappointing," Harry said smoothing his torn baggy jeans.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound the way it did. What I mean is that I just expected, well, I don't know what I expected."

"Prince Charming with a hot body, lips to die for, sad eyes, and silken locks blowing in the breeze as he thunders across the countryside on his noble white steed," Ron supplied impishly.

Hermione gave him a withering look but Ron appeared unrepentant. "May I assume that with Neville about to perform a spell that the restrictions don't apply aboard this train?" Hermione asked frostily.

"That's correct," Ron answered. "No muggles on the train so it's a safe area. Charms and curses are always being tossed about in the corridors according to my brothers which is one reason that they set the prefects to patrolling during the trip."

"Good," Hermione said as she pointed her wand at Harry's face. "Oculus Reparo!"

Harry's broken spectacles immediately became as new.

Harry took off his glasses and stared at them in wonder. "Thanks," he finally stammered.

"That's a new one on me," Ron said respectfully.

"It's in _1001 Household Charms_," Hermione said, the chill gone from her voice. "I bought it to expand on the curriculum. Harry, I really did not mean any insult."

"I wasn't insulted, Hermione," Harry said as he put his glasses back on. "Ron is a bit of a joker although a very sly one. Anyway, what are you going to have Neville do?"

"I'm sure Neville knows the spell," Ron said heartedly.

"Accio?" Neville asked in a quiet voice.

"Goodness, I should have thought of that," Hermione said. "That's one of the earliest spells in our textbook."

Neville cleared his throat. "Accio Trevor," he squeaked.

"Neville," Ron said firmly. "You are a wizard. He is a mere frog.."

"Toad"

"Whatever," Ron said. "Command him to you."

Neville drew a breath "ACCIO TREVOR!" he roared.

Within seconds, a brown streak ended in a thump in Neville's left hand. Trevor the Toad had returned. Harry joined in as Hermione and Ron applauded Neville.

"Bravo," cried Hermione.

"I knew you could do it, Neville," Ron said.

"Cool," Harry added.

Neville stared at the toad in his hand. "It.. it worked," he stuttered.

"Well, of course it worked," Ron said. "You are Neville Longbottom, heir to generations of magic. You'll probably be the greatest wizard in our form."

Neville turned a deep crimson as his mouth twisted slowly into a bashful smile. Harry was speculative. It was oblivious that Neville had about as much confidence in his self as Harry had in his own self yet he was able to do magic.

"Maybe," Harry thought. "There hasn't been a mistake. Maybe I do have the ability after all. Maybe I can be the wizard everyone thinks I am."

"Did you bring an animal with you, Harry?" Neville asked.

Harry snapped out of his revelry. "Yes, I have a snowy owl named Hedwig," he answered. "She was a birthday present. I couldn't find a compartment so she's in the baggage car."

"How about you, Ron?" Neville asked.

Ron shook his head. "I have a pet rat at home that was more or less fobbed off on me but I saw no sense in bringing it to school so I guess it falls into my sister's care. Hermione?"

"I saw the list of acceptable pets but I thought that I would see which was more useful to have first before I bought one," she said. "Besides, I bought so many books that I was embarrassed to ask for a familiar."

"Actually that's a muggle term, Hermione," Ron said benignly. "Most of us in the wizarding community aren't Satanists therefore we have no need of evil spirits masquerading as animals."

"Again, I meant no insult," Hermione said. "Professor Sprout made it very clear in the orientation that the religious beliefs of witches and wizards run the same gamut as non magical folk."

"What's this orientation you keep talking about?" Harry asked.

Hermione glanced over at him. "Those of us from ordinary families have to have quite a bit explained to us, don't you know," she began. "Eight of us with our parents gathered in the _Leaky Cauldron._ She, Professor Sprout that is, apologized for the fact that our invitations had a compulsion charm on them otherwise none of us would have shown up otherwise. I mean, who would believe such a gag."

"She explained a quite few things about the wizarding community and Hogwarts then took us into Diagon Alley. I felt like Dorothy in Oz. It was the most wonderful, amazing place I had ever seen. I must have looked star struck because my mother just laughed and said that she knew where I would be for the next seven years."

"I felt the same way," Harry said. "I wished that I had eight eyes to see everything. I guess you two are used to the place."

"No," Neville said surprising himself that he actually joined a conversation with near strangers. "There is always something new to see. I always envied those people who get to work there every day."

"I love just sitting at Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor with a strawberry sundae and just watching everyone pass by," Ron said. "Eventually, we'll be allowed to go into Hogsmeade, the wizarding village near Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie said that it's a lot like Diagon Alley."

"I read about it," Hermione said. "It sounds very interesting but we can't go until our third year at Hogwarts."

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Ron answered. "Probably some rule made in 1547 that no one has bothered to change."

Neville chuckled. "There are a lot of rules like that."

"Like me getting an owl from the Ministry telling me to stop practicing spells in my bedroom," Hermione said. "_Hello_, my parents know that I am a witch now."

The four of them laughed warmly.

"What sort of instrument is that, Ron?" Neville asked.

"It's a concertina," Ron replied. "It's been in the family for some time. I found it in the attic a few years back and have been squeezing it ever since."

"He's good," Harry said. "He was playing when I got here."

"Thanks," Ron said. "I'm not too bad. In the last year or so my sister stopped running away every time I started so I must be getting better."

"Do you know _The Water is Wide_?" Hermione asked.

Without a word, Ron began to play and after a few bars Hermione began singing.

_The water is wide, I can not get o'er _

_And neither have I wings to fly_

_ O go and get me some little boat_

_To carry o'er my true love and I_

Hermione was a soprano with a strong clear voice that was well suited for folk music which, she explained between songs, her parents loved and consequently she had grown up listening to herself. The rest of the trip vanished in a blink as Hermione and Ron teamed up to perform _If I were a Blackbird, The Female Drummer, Blackbirds and Thrushes, The Trees They grow so High, The Outlandish Knight, _and a dozen other songs. Neville and Harry were coaxed into singing a little but by universal acclaim Ron was consigned to only playing after he gave them a small sample of his voice.

"I've been known to scare the ghoul in the attic with my singing." he admitted with a twinkle in his eye.

"You play very well though," Hermione said not wanting to hurt his feelings. "Especially for one your age."

"Thank you," he said as he launched into _ Next Market Day._

It was only after the song did they notice that it was full night and that the train was slowing down.

"I think were almost there," Neville said unnecessarily.

Hermione leaped up from the seat. "I haven't even got my robes on yet," she exclaimed as she fled from the compartment only to return immediately.

'I will see you all inside," She said calmly. "I do hope that we all get sorted into the same house."

With a smile, she disappeared again.

Neville (minus Trevor) gave them a casual three finger salute. "See you shortly," he said as he followed Hermione out.

"Well," Ron began after putting the concertina back in its case. "Let's go see what the future holds, shall we?"

"Sounds like a plan, mate," Harry said confidently.


	2. chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **See Chapter 1 of this opus

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 2

Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron were standing in Professor McGonagall's office. The professor herself was seated behind her desk. Several times she started to speak only to stop in an attempt to gain mastery over her anger.

Finally when she was able to speak her voice was unruffled but was chilling for all that. "Can one of you explain how you four received two weeks detention and lost Gryffindor one hundred and twenty points _in your very first potions class?"_

"It seems that Professor Snape doesn't like questions," Ron said. "But I didn't know that so I asked one of him."

Professor McGonagall stared at the lanky redhead but she didn't fail to catch the small tight smiles on Neville and Harry's faces. Hermione simply looked mortified. The head of Gryffindor House closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Pray tell, Mr. Weasley, what was your question that cost us one hundred and twenty points?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Ron is only responsible for fifty of the points lost, Ma'am," Harry interrupted. "I lost fifty more."

"I lost ten of them," Neville said.

"Leaving ten for Miss Granger," McGonagall said.

"For the high crime of trying to answer Professor Snape's questions," Ron injected as Hermione tried to hide in plain sight.

"I am still waiting to hear the question that triggered this avalanche, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said calmly.

"Well, Professor Snape was firing all these questions at Harry and making snide remarks when Harry did not know the answers although Hermione apparently did because she kept waving her hand in the air," Ron began a matter of factly. "Anyway I asked the professor to clarify a point for me. You see, as I explained to the good potions master, I have never attended a proper school before. Up to now I have been taught by my mother and by Mrs. Lovegood until her tragic death last year so I am unfamiliar with the ways of professional teachers. To satisfy my curiosity, I asked if humiliation and ridicule are the normal methods of instruction or was he simply a petty tyrant of some sort. Things got a little loud after that and when the dust settled, well, you know the results. He never did answer my question however."

"Mr. Weasley, the staff and faculty of Hogwarts are to be shown proper respect," Professor McGonagall barked.

"Yes, Ma'am," Ron replied.

"My Great Uncle Algie always told me that respect must be earned," a stunned Neville heard himself saying.

"He is your teacher, Mr. Longbottom." Professor McGonagall. "That entitles him to your respect."

"In the muggle school I attended, the teachers were there to teach," Harry said. "We weren't expected to have memorized the textbooks before the school term started."

"That's enough, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall. "I don't think that you four realize how of an obstacle you have placed in the path of your fellow house mates in our attempt to win the House Cup."

"Yeah, I cost us fifty points for not knowing any answers on the first day of class," Harry said bitterly. "And Hermione lost us ten by knowing the answers and all of us got two weeks detention. Sod your cup! It's a rigged race."

"Enough!" roared Professor McGonagall slamming her fist down on the desk. She watched horrified as Harry crawled backed into his shell. With visible effort she struggled with her emotions. Slowly and deliberately, she folded her hands together and rested them on the desk before her. Her eyes lingered on the four miscreants as her nostrils flared and dilated with her breathing. Finally she sighed.

"Do you have anything to add, Miss Granger?"

"No, Ma'am. I'm sorry, Ma'am," Hermione said in a quiet voice.

"Mr. Weasley, There is a tea service in the corner there," Professor McGonagall said tranquilly. "Pour everyone a cup please. Mr. Longbottom, please bring over that tin of biscuits. You two pull chairs for everyone to the desk, please."

With looks of surprise at each other, the four fell to there tasks. Shortly, they were seated about their Head of House's desk, sipping herbal tea and munching on shortbread biscuits.

"My mother often said that the world always looks better over a cup of tea," Professor McGonagall said.

"If someone is upset the first thing Mum does is to hand them a cuppa," Ron said.

"Smart woman, your mother," the professor said. "She was one of my favorite students although she never had any great skill at transfiguration. Her charm work was outstanding. Now your parents, Mr. Longbottom."

She hesitated then continued. "They were incredible at transfiguration. I taught them everything I knew and they still wanted more. They were true scholars. It gives me great pleasure to be able to teach their son, now"

"Thank you, ma'am," Neville said staring into his mug. Professor McGonagall reached out and squeezed his hand gently. She was rewarded by a small, brave grin as Neville stretched for another biscuit.

"Did you know my parents, Ma'am," Harry asked eagerly. "I can't remember a thing about them. I don't even have a photograph of them,"

Professor McGonagall laughed. "It was impossible not to know James and Lily while they were here but for very different reasons. Your mother was every teacher's dream student. She absorbed knowledge like parched ground drinks in rain and, rarity of rarities, translated knowledge into wisdom. Bright, eager to learn, polite, and like you Miss Granger, she came from a muggle family, the first in her family to display any magical talent."

"Now your father, Mr. Potter, was a rascal. A brilliant student mind you and a great quidditch player but he and his three closest friends created more havoc then the rest of the student body combined times two."

"My brother Bill often talked about the Marauders," Ron said with a laugh. "I think his stories inspired Fred and George."

"Well, I can not thank him for that," Professor McGonagall said. "But please remember me to him none the less when you write him next."

"I will," he promised.

Professor McGonagall sat her tea cup down. "Now, I want you four to listen to me and heed my words. First, the four of you will publicly apologize to Professor Snape at the beginning of your next potions class."

"You will," She snapped as they groaned.

"Yes, Ma'am," They said in more or less unison with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"I know the faults and shortcomings of my colleagues far better then you do," she said reasonably. "Whatever the nature of his personality, Professor Snape is a gifted brewer of potions. You can learn more from him about the art of potions then anyone that I can think of. I want you to be quiet, be polite, ignore his jibes and insults and learn. Do you understand me?"

"But, Professor," Ron began.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione and Ron said together as Neville nodded.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry shrugged. McGonagall could almost feel the shields he erected around him. "I've known nothing but bullies my whole life," he said. "After a while it doesn't really matter how many there are kicking me."

Professor McGonagall felt a rush of guilt at Harry's resigned acceptance of abuse. Her belief in Dumbledore's assertion that leaving Harry to the mercies of the Dursleys was for the best and that it offered his greatest protection didn't crumble but it did creak. She remembered the wave of horror that washed over her when she saw how Harry's Hogwarts letter was addressed: _The cupboard under the stairs. _She would definitely have a word with Severus and Dumbledore too if that's what it will take.

"Secondly, I want you four to appear contrite when you return to the Gryffindor common room," Professor McGonagall said. "And in any private conversations with other students."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Hermione said remorsefully. "They'll all hate us for losing the House Cup for them before the first week is up."

"Trust me on this, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said with a ghost of a smile on her lips. "I have been teaching for a long time and, though to you I am ancient, I still remember my own school days as well. For every student who is angry over the loss of points, five will anoint you as a hero for standing up to Professor Snape who, unfortunately, is a rather unpopular teacher."

"To maintain good order and keep an atmosphere conducive to learning in tact, such rebelliousness must be nipped in the bud. After all, the whole purpose of this institution is to teach pupils the _Ars Magica_, is it not?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said.

"Courage is the predominate trait of a Gryffindor student," Professor McGonagall continued. "Courage, however, has many facets. One facet is bravery. You four _and this does NOT_ _leave this room_, showed bravery by defying a strong figure in the wrong and coming to the aid of each other. However, another facet of courage is temerity. Do you know what that means?"

They had known each other for only a week but the three boys automatically turned their heads to Hermione.

"It means a reckless disregard for, or foolish contempt of, danger," Hermione said. "To behave rashly."

"Precisely, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said. "History is resplendent with tales of those who perished while braving great odds. Most are called heroes but many were mere fools who threw away their lives without thinking. They were hoodwinked and provoked by emotion into running imprudent, irrational risks."

"You boys should be very familiar with our recent precarious history. All three of you have lost relatives; relatives that showed incredible courage in the fight against darkness, courage to the point of dying for a cause. The Sorting Hat placed all three of you into Gryffindor so I am certain that the same courage flows through your veins as I am confident that it fills the heart of Miss Granger here. Please temper that courage with reason. Do not allow your emotions land you into situations that your common sense could have easily avoided."

"Yes, Professor," the four answered soberly.

"If Professor Snape runs true to form, detention will consist of cleaning and organizing his classroom and storage room," Professor McGonagall said. "It is a very good opportunity to become familiar with many of the substances that you will use in his class. Take advantage of it."

"Yes, Professor," came the unified reply.

"If anyone asks, I came within a hair of sending for the whips and chains that Mr. Finch keeps in good working condition."

The four chuckled and voiced their willingness to say so.

"I also expect those points to be earned back before the school year is finished, is that clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Ron said. "We'll do our best."

"We'll get them back, Professor," Neville asserted.

Professor McGonagall smiled kindly at them as they began to move the chairs back and clean off the desk. They showed a lot of promise. Harry and Neville had been through quite a bit she knew yet they were still standing. Ron was not at all like any of his brothers. There was a surprising maturity in him for such a young boy.

She secretly laughed to herself remembering how the boys turned to Hermione for the definition. She was obviously very intelligent if a bit tightly wound. It wasn't easy for those from muggle families to blend in with the other students but she had made three good friends quickly although a female friend would have helped. Yet it may be that Hermione was simply one of those girls more comfortable in the company of boys.

Minerva McGonagall sighed. She knew better then most that the darkness was gathering again like a storm just over the horizon. She hoped that before the Death Eaters rose again that there was enough time to train these four and their classmates to defeat Voldemort and his minions once and for all. She shook her head to dispel the gloom. "Sufficient unto the day the evil therein" she quoted to herself.

"Before you go, Percy tells me that you four formed an impromptu folk group on the train," Professor McGonagall said.

"Yes, Ma'am," Hermione said. "Ron played the concertina and I sang with Neville and Harry doing harmony."

"Well, when I ask for a performance during this term, I expect some Scottish tunes to be included," She said.

"They'll be in there, Professor," Ron promised as he held the door for the others.

"But I don't know any Scottish songs," McGonagall heard Neville say in the hallway.

"She let us live so we better learn some," Harry replied to him.

**A/N: **I would like to thank _Ebony__River_and _TomTom21 _for their kind words in their review

To: Ebony River

RE: Harry's strength of character.

Harry and Neville will both get stronger in this particular AU. I would not think that Harry with his raising would be an assertive sort. Strong, yes indeed to have survived but he would have to have hidden such force of character from the Dursleys. Years of suppression would make it difficult to show such a facet of his personality. In my little tale here, Ron and Hermione will provide the stable foundation that will allow Harry and Neville to break the shackles of their upbringing and allow them to come into the power they inherited.

I do agree with you about strong central characters make for much more interesting reading. I recall trying to read Stephen Donaldson's books about Thomas Covenant. Well written books with a good story line and interesting characters except for the lead character. Thomas Covenant spent several thousand pages whining and wallowing in self pity. I finally gave up before the series ended because all I wanted to do was to reach into the pages and strangle the idiot. A few million fans disagree with me no doubt but that's okay.

Also, despite the title of the story, Ron is actually the central character.


	3. chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I wasn't on the grassy knoll nor do I own any of the characters created by J. K. Rowling. This is a work of fan fiction.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 3

Professor McGonagall's prediction on the rest of Gryffindor House's reaction to the quartet when they got back to their tower proved to be dead on right.

There was some moaning and gnashing of teeth especially by the seventh formers whose final opportunity to win the House Cup seemed to have being dashed before the first week of school was up. Percy gravely informed Ron that he had all ready sent an owl to their parents and that Ron should probably expect a howler in the morning mail.

"I am a prefect," Percy said ostentatiously. "People expect a higher standard of behavior from us and from our siblings."

Fred and George, however, were typical of the majority of Gryffindors.

"That's as cool as it gets," George said pulling Ron into rough hug. "We were going to spend the rest of our years here denying that you were our brother."

"But now you're worthy enough to claim," Fred finished as he roughed up his little brother's hair. "Man, we never had the balls to stand up to Snape."

"Of course, we aren't brain damaged either," George added.

John Paul Starr, a sixth former from a muggle family dubbed them the _"New Fab Four". _Few actually knew the reference but that didn't stop the nickname from sticking instantly. The _Fab Four_ were the toast of Gryffindor and their promise to Professor McGonagall about being contrite was getting harder and harder to keep so when Harry informed them that he had told Hagrid that he would see him in his cabin that afternoon the other three quickly begged to be included in the outing.

Late in the afternoon, they trudged across the school grounds to a wooden cabin that snuggled up close to the forest. A garden surrounded by a small stone wall and overflowing with a variety of vegetables including some truly huge pumpkins was to one side of the cabin. On the other side of the cabin, a well worn path disappeared quickly into the Forbidden Forest although, with leaves that were just beginning to turn moving slightly in a warm gentle breeze, the wood seemed anything but ominous. A crossbow hung on a peg by the door and an enormous pair of wellies was on the steps below it. Ferocious barking answered Harry's knock.

"Back, Fang!" Hagrid's voice boomed.

The door cracked open and the groundskeeper peered out. "Oh it's you, Harry. Come on in. Back, Fang!"

"I hope you don't mind but I brought some friends with me," Harry said still amazed at actually having friends.

"No, no, of course not," Hagrid reassured him. "The more, the merrier, eh?"

The _Fab Four_ entered Hagrid's cabin, their progress hampered somewhat by Fang the friendly boarhound's enthusiasm for guests. The cabin itself proved to have only one room but it was spacious and airy. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling. A truly gigantic bed covered with a patchwork quilt was in one corner.

"Sit where you can," Hagrid said as he started pouring tea. "Sorry but most of the furniture I made myself to fit me."

"You did a fine job of it," Hermione said as she and Neville climbed onto a bench. "You must be very good with your hands."

"Thank you," Hagrid said passing around tea mugs. "Harry, would you care to introduce me to you friends. I remember them from the boats but I don't know their names."

"Sorry," Harry said hopping off the stool he had been sitting on. "This is Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds here at Hogwarts. He likes to be called Hagrid. I will always count him as my friend and rescuer for coming and getting me away from the Dursleys."

"I was sent to get you, Harry," Hagrid said his voice suddenly thick with emotion. "But I count it an honor to be able to have done so."

"Just that next time you save someone from the muggles remember to tell them how to get on to platform 9 ¾," Harry grinned.

"What!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Didn't I tell you? I'm sorry. How did you get on then?"

"Ron's mother told me. I watched as the boys disappeared through the wall. She and her daughter were about to go through when I finally got the nerve to ask her how it was done," Harry answered. "This is Ron Weasley."

"Another Weasley," Hagrid said extending his hand. "Haven't they run out of children yet?"

"My sister will be here next year," Ron replied shaking the groundskeeper's enormous hand. "She's the last of our generation so you should have a few Weasley free years before the next wave."

"I have spent half my time these last couple of years chasing your twin brothers out of the forest," Hagrid said with a laugh. "How's Charlie doing? Still in Romania?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, he is. He's becoming quiet the expert on dragons."

"He always had a way with animals, he did." Hagrid said. "Wouldn't surprise me a bit if he came back here one day as the Care of Magical Creatures Professor. How about yourself, like animals?"

"Depends on how they're cooked," Ron replied straight faced. "I like them well enough but I prefer to be around nothing more dangerous then a hedgehog, thank you very much. Sorry to disappoint you."

Hagrid casually waved a massive hand. "To each their own,"

"And this is Neville Longbottom," Harry continued.

"Longbottom, eh" Hagrid said giving Neville a long look before once again extending his hand. "Well, it's my pleasure to meet you Neville. I counted your parents as good friends. Anything that I could do for their son I would call it a privilege. If you ever need something, don't hesitate to ask me. "

"I won't," Neville said as he stood up on the bench and took Hagrid's hand. "I mean, I will, ask you that is, Sir."

Hagrid's smile parted his furry beard. "Just Hagrid. I'm no sir."

"This is Hermione Granger," Harry said.

Hagrid bowed slightly to the bushy haired girl who looked almost toy like on the vast wooden bench. "I don't remember any Grangers here before so I guess that you come from a muggle family?"

"Yes, I do," Hermione answered somewhat sharply.

Hagrid heard the tone in her voice. "Whoa, lass, I mean no slight. There are plenty of students from muggle families here and by Christmas break you can't tell them from the kids that come from the wizarding families except that they are usually more eager to learn."

"I shouldn't have gotten on my high horse, Hagrid," Hermione apologized. "I suppose that I am still a little distrustful. I've only been here a week but I've noticed that some people here put a stress on the word muggle making it sound as if it was an obscenity. My parents are wonderful people and I love them. I am not going to disavow my relationship to them just to satisfy some bigoted idiots."

Hagrid shook his head sadly. "Aye, it's a pity but I can't deny it. There are some, not many mind you, but far more then I like to admit feel that Hogwarts should only teach purebloods."

"Purebloods," Ron snorted. "It's a simple fact that here are very few pureblooded wizards left. We would have died out centuries ago without our ancestors marrying muggles. Just look around us; my mother's considered rather odd by many for having seven children. Most wizarding couples have only one child. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's a road to extinction."

"A lot of muggle couples only have one child, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah but there are billions of muggles," Ron answered.

"My mother came from a muggle family," Harry said.

"My mother wasn't a witch, either," Hagrid said.

"Well, Neville and I both come from ancient wizarding families but I don't think that either of us believes that puts us above anyone else at this school even though we probably have _'purer'_ blood then a bunch of our snobbier classmates." Ron said. "Dad is always being called a muggle lover and he doesn't deny it at all."

"Gran always says that yesterday's spell won't do today's magic," Neville said in agreement. "Everybody has prove their own worth,"

As the conversation progressed, Harry's eye fell on a newspaper clipping from the _Daily Prophet_. There had been a break in at Gringotts Bank the very day that Harry had been there. Nothing had been taken according to the goblins at the bank because the vault that was broken into had, in fact, been emptied earlier that day. The article didn't mention the vault number.

"What was that number?" Harry thought. "713, yeah, that was it. I wonder what was in that little package that was worth risking all those protective charms and dragons and who knows what else down there to get at? Oh, come now, Harry. There must be thousands if not tens of thousands of vaults in that bank. Why do you think that it would be the very one you happened to visit?"

"Hagrid," Harry called out holding up the clipping. "Was it your vault that these thieves hit?"

"What, oh the story, uh no," he stammered. "I just thought that it was interesting is all. I never thought that anyone could have gotten into Gringott's in the first place. What classes have you found the most interesting so far?"

Harry had the distinct feeling that Hagrid purposefully steered the conversation away from the break in. "What in the world was in that grubby little package that would make Hagrid so nervous?" Harry thought but he didn't bring the subject back up again.

It was nearly suppertime while they parted company with Hagrid. The few hours with the groundskeeper had been a welcome relief from the uproar in the tower. He was sympathetic with their outburst but, like McGonagall, he defended Snape.

"He is a Hogwarts Professor and as such deserves your respect," he said. "And if you knew the things he has done outside of the school, you'd call him a hero."

Although the four pressed him on the subject, Hagrid wouldn't elaborate on his last statement. He simply and unknowingly repeated McGonagall's instructions.

"Apologize, sit down, shut up, and learn," he advised them and extracted their promise to do just that as well as to visit him again as soon as they could. The four agreed to the latter with far more enthusiasm then the former.

They had walked halfway back to the school when Hermione finally broke the silence that they had fallen into.

"Neville, may I ask you a question of a personal nature?" Hermione asked.

Neville peeked at her with a slightly baffled look. "I suppose so but I can't think of anything about me personally that would interest anyone."

"I've noticed that some people especially adults seem to hesitate when talking to you as if they are choosing their words very carefully," Hermione said. "Why is that?"

Neville saw the grimace that appeared on Ron's face so he knew that Ron knew the reason why and Hermione's question told him that Ron hadn't said anything to the others. "Well," he thought. "It's nothing shameful after all."

"A few months after Harry's encounter with you know… forget that…with Voldemort some of his followers captured my parents. Mum and Dad were tortured into insanity," Neville said quietly but in a firm voice. "I still visit them at St. Mungo's but they have no idea who I am."

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said with true anguish. "I am so sorry. Me and my long nose."

"Its okay, Hermione, really it is," Neville reassured her. "Please stop crying."

Ron handed her a handkerchief. Hermione grabbed it gratefully.

"How many boys carry a handkerchief with them," she said dabbing at her eyes.

"Its part of my upbringing," Ron replied. "I'm afraid that if I actually left the dorm without clean underwear or a handkerchief, Mum would show up instantly breathing fire."

"Did they catch your parents' attackers?" Harry asked.

"They are rotting their lives away in Azkaban as we speak," Neville replied. "They did terrible things but Azkaban is a terrible, terrible punishment. There are days that I truly feel sorry for them even though they brought it upon themselves."

"I don't think I could be that forgiving," Ron said.

"I've seen too many people especially in my own family filled with hatred," Neville said. "It eats them up like a cancer. Their days are filled with bitterness without any hope of happiness. Forgiveness is hard but the alternative is harder."

"I guess that you are about as much of an orphan as I am," Harry said.

Neville nodded. "Except that in my case I can still have hope that maybe someday Mum and Dad can be restored to their right minds."

"I think that might be even harder to face. I mean to keep hoping year after year." Harry replied.

Neville shrugged his shoulders. "What else can I do?" The hard part for me is that, like you. I am the last of my family. Dad and all of his cousins were killed in the struggle. Dad was the only one that had a child so Gran and those of her age focus on me.

Mercy but it's a lot of pressure."

"Neville, you're the bravest person that I ever met," Ron said respectfully. "It's no wonder the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor."

Harry frowned. He had never examined the possibility that he was the last of his family. He knew that he was an orphan but he had always assumed that he went to live with his Aunt Petunia because she was the closest relative not because she was the only one.

"Am I really the last of the Potters?" he asked.

Ron, Neville, and surprisingly Hermione all nodded.

"According to _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_, you are," Hermione said sadly.

"Maybe they made a mistake," Harry said.

"Sorry, mate," Ron said kindly. "You just have no idea how prominent the Potter family was. Well, actually still is with you being _the boy who lived_. No less then three of your ancestors were Ministers of Magic. Others were Chief Warlocks, Supreme Mugwumps, and other high ranking people. If we gave out titles like our muggle countrymen do the Potters would have been Dukes, at least, if not our Royal family. If there were anyone left in your family it would be known."

Neville nodded in agreement with Ron. "Sorry, Harry, but there are no remaining Potters save yourself."

Harry sighed. "I guess, maybe deep down, I really always knew so in my heart. It's just, oh, I don't know. I guess it's just spooky to think of you yourself as the last one of anything."

"I know what you mean," Neville said.

With effort, Harry forced his thoughts away from the subject. "So," he began as lightly as he could. "Would your families be nobility if such a thing existed in the wizarding community?"

"Neville undoubtedly would be an Earl," Ron replied airily. "But the Weasleys are solid yeomen, backbone of magical England."

Laughing, the four of them bounded up the stairs and into Hogwarts Castle.

**_A/N_**: 1) If I may, I would like to use this forum to thank mizlovegood and venus4280 for their kind words in their review of chapter two.

2) Also I recently discovered the Stats function on the settings page so I would like to take this opportunity to thank Riv, Knightblazer85, Ebony River, Tall- Ripley and Angela Dawne for placing me on their Authors Alert list. I find this flattering and hope that my efforts keep you entertained. Ebony River and Tall-

Ripley even put me on their Favorite Authors list. I'm amazed but again very flattered. My sincere and humble thanks to you all.

3) In reply to venus4280's comments in her (I assume her) review. A great difficulty with protagonists is to make them heroic without sacrificing believability. This is especially difficult when the protagonist is a young person. If I may say so, J. K. Rowling does a very good job with this when dealing with Hermione. She is highly intelligent, very well read, and seems to have an incredible memory for what she learns so JKR uses her to supply the needed information to move the plot along yet the facts that our dear Hermione has at her fingertips never stretches the readers credibility. If she suddenly began to translate ancient an ancient Hindi text on magic, we as readers would say "no way" but if it was in a history book that she read that had the translation in it, it works.

As for the public apology that the four must deliver to Snape it will be forthcoming.


	4. chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** No, Officer, I didn't know that there was a decapitated body in the closet and I don't own any of these characters. The characters belong to J. K. Rowling. The body probably belongs to that head in the refrigerator.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 4

Severus Snape could feel the anticipation build as each student came into the room. Covert glances kept flashing from him to the four Gryffindors who resolutely were the first to arrive.

"What does everyone really think I am going to do to the four," Severus thought grimly. "Slit their throats? Garrote them, maybe?"

Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron choose to sit at the very front of the class. They hadn't said a word nor had they looked at Professor Snape. Instead they sat quietly reading _Magical Drafts and Potions._

Severus didn't know what Minerva had told the four but he was thinking about what she had told him in the staffroom.

"They will apologize to you next class, Severus," she had said the following day after the incident. "Please accept it and let that be the end to this matter save for the detentions, of course."

"And the points?" he queried needling his colleague slightly.

"And the points," she agreed.

"Why should I?" Severus asked belligerently.

Minerva set her jaw firmly. "You do so in the interest of a peaceful classroom, if nothing else. Accept the apology and its over. Everyone settles down to learn. Don't accept it and everyone stays on edge waiting for the next donnybrook."

"I will consider it," he said as he stood to leave.

"Severus, one more thing," Minerva said. "In years that you and James Potter were at each others throats, I said nothing. Your feud was ridiculous but you were boys then men of equal training so I let it be. Harry, however, is a boy and, despite his looks, is not his father. It would be both disgraceful and dishonorable for you to transfer your animosity of James to his son especially considering what Harry has been through these last ten years."

"I thought that you knew that I have no honor," Severus said.

Minerva McGonagall gave her colleague a small smile. "You know that I know better, Severus. Please think about what I have said."

"As I said, I will consider it," Professor Snape replied.

Minerva looked at the potions master but said nothing. Like the cat that she could transform into, Minerva McGonagall had patience. She would wait and see what Severus choose to do.

Millicent Bulstrode walked into the classroom and shut the door behind her. After several years of teaching, just a quick glance was all that Professor Snape needed to know that everyone was indeed present. Slowly He turned his head to the four Gryffindors, his eyes specifically rested on Harry Potter.

"Its like being eleven again and seeing that damned James Potter for the first time," Severus thought. "Except for the eyes; those are Lily's. Hopefully there is more of her within her son."

The four Griffindors pushed back their chairs and stood in unison. It was Ron Weasley who spoke first.

"Sir," he began in a steady voice. "We wish to apologize to you and our classmates for our behavior during our last meeting. We were wrong and we have no excuses for what we did. We are sorry."

Professor Snape let a few heartbeats pass in silence as he continued to look over the four.

"Miss Granger?" Professor Snape finally asked.

"Yes, Sir, I am sorry,"

"Mr. Longbottom?"

Neville took a deep breath and looked his teacher in the eye. "I was wrong, Sir. It won't happen again."

"Mr. Potter,"

"I apologize, Sir," Harry said firmly. "I should not have caused trouble in your class."

"Mr. Potter, do you know what _legilimency_ is?" Professor Snape asked staring hard at Harry.

Hermione's left arm twitched but she kept it at her side. Harry knotted his brow in concentration.

"No, Sir, I don't know what that means," Harry said.

"It means mind reading. An accomplished legilimens, such as me, can determined if someone is telling the truth or not," Professor Snape explained. "If I were to turn my ability on you and asked you to repeat your apology, what would I learn?"

Harry summoned up his courage and looked his professor full in the face. "You would know that I have told the truth."

"Definitely Lily's eyes," Severus thought as he locked eyes with Harry.

"Mr. Wealsey?" Professor Snape asked as he broke contact with Harry.

"You have my apologies, Sir," Ron quickly said hoping to get everything over with before anyone could say the wrong thing.

"You four sit down," the potions master said with a curt nod. "Your detentions will begin tonight at seven. One hour a night for the next ten weekdays cleaning and organizing this classroom and storage room."

Professor Snape spun a chalkboard around that held the written steps to that day's potion. "Today's potion is as basic as it gets in this class but I am amazed at the number of dunderheads that manage to foul it up every year."

Millicent turned her head from the blackboard because she thought that she heard a shoe scrape against the stone floor but when she couldn't see anyone she turned her attention back to her teacher. No one noticed as the classroom door opened quietly and just as quietly closed. Albus Dumbledore was satisfied with today's events.


	5. chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fan fiction using the characters and situations created by J. K. Rowling. It is not written for material gain of any.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 5

The _Fab Four_ were returning to their dorm after their first flying lesson. Ron silently chuckled at the goofy grins of joy that were plastered on the faces of his friends. Ron had spent the better part of the previous week convincing his three friends (none of whom had ever flown) that flying on a broomstick wasn't all that difficult.

"Think of it like you would swimming," Ron had told them. "You swim best and enjoy it most when you simply relax and have fun."

"Yeah, except on a broom you're tens or hundreds of feet in the air," Hermione said nervous over a subject that didn't come with a textbook.

"Did you always know how deep the water was ever time you went swimming?" Ron had asked.

"Well, no, not always," Hermione admitted. "In the ocean there weren't any depth markings like on a pool."

"So, you could have been tens or hundreds of feet above the ocean floor when you were swimming across the surface," Ron pointed out.

Hermione smiled. "Probably no more then twenty feet but I see what you mean."

"I see what he means, too," Neville said. "But I don't swim very well either."

"My little sister has been secretly 'borrowing' my brothers' brooms and zipping around the countryside ever since she was six. If a six year old can fly, I know that you can," Ron said buoyantly.

Harry had said little about being nervous because what trepidation that he had felt was overwhelmed by the excitement of actually being able to fly. Trapped as he had been in an unfortunate situation, he had grown up envying the ability of birds simply to fly away to anywhere they pleased. The experience proved far better then his wildest fantasies had imaged. He could have flown for a week powered by sheer ecstasy.

"I wish I had the words to describe how I feel right now," Harry said. "Then I would create a charm to make everyone feel this good."

"It's like strawberries covered in milk chocolate times ten," Hermione said.

"With mint ice cream on the side," Neville added, "I can't believe it. I didn't crash. I freaking did not crash."

"You flew well, Neville," Ron said. "You guys make me feel jaded. You had a blast at what I now just consider routine."

"The price of experience," Hermione said with a throaty chuckle which caused Ron to raise an eyebrow.

"It must be true what they say about witches and their broomsticks," he said.

. "I haven't heard what they say about witches and brooms but I bet it's similar to what muggles say about girls and motorcycles," Hermione replied with a wink as she stepped through the massive school doors.

Ron stopped and turned to Harry. "Now I _definitely _have to get my hands on a motorcycle."

Harry smiled as he slapped Ron on the shoulder and pushed him on through the doors.

"I tell you, Harry, you're a natural flyer," Ron said when they were both inside. "You were better then anyone else out there. I can't believe that it was your first time on a broom."

"I didn't do too badly," Harry said modestly.

"You were great, Harry," Neville injected.

"It was as if you and the broom were one, Harry," Hermione said. "I think several of our classmates were a little jealous."

"Thanks," Harry replied blushing slightly under the barrage of praise.

"Two things for certain," Ron said. "One, I have got to teach you how to play quidditch and two the first thing you have to do as soon as school lets out for the year is to get yourself over to Diagon Alley and buy yourself a good broom."

"I tell you truthfully, Harry," Ron continued. "You were born to play quidditch either as a chaser or a seeker,"

"Thanks, Ron." Harry said. "But let's get back to earth here. You have done a good job encouraging me so far; encouraging all of us in fact. Don't think I haven't noticed what you have been doing and don't think that I am not grateful but, come on now, it was only one flying class."

"Harry, I'll bet you a galleon that before supper Madame Hooch will have told Professor McGonagall that the next great Gryffindor quidditch player is none other then Harry Potter," Ron said seriously.

"No bet," Harry replied quickly fully aware that Ron couldn't afford to lose a galleon. "But I'd like to learn quidditch."

"Oh, you're going to learn all right," Ron said. "You have too much raw talent for me to just to ignore."

"Okay, coach," Harry said.


	6. chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction. The characters belong to the talented J. K. Rowling. I own nothing nor do I claim any talent.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 6

The fab four were sitting in an out of the way corner of the Gryffindor common room working their way through a variety of sweet treats (something Hermione was not going to mention in her next letter to her parents) and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. The Halloween feast in the great hall had been going full force when Professor Quirrell burst in screaming that a troll was loose in the dungeons. Pandemonium ruled for a few seconds but Professor Dumbledore quickly took charge of the situation and restored order. Students were sent back to their common rooms to finish up the feast while the faculty went after the troll.

Harry was slowly chewing on a tart with a frown on his face. Neville turned from watching the antics of Fred and George to refill his glass when he noticed Harry's expression.

"Knut for your thoughts, Harry." he said.

"I've just been thinking," Harry said.

"So now your head hurts," Neville joked.

Harry grinned at his friend. "About to explode, actually."

"So what's got you doing this dangerous mental activity?" Neville asked.

"Well, the troll," Harry said. "You guys say that trolls are thick as planks, right?"

"Sure," Ron said joining the conversation. "There is a documented case over in Poland in the twenties where a troll actually drowned as he stared up at a rainstorm with his mouth open."

"No way!" Harry exclaimed.

"Way. It's written up in both _Humourous Happenings_ and in _Magical Odds and Ends,_" Hermione said. "Three wizards studying trolls watched the poor thing drown in 1926 near the Dukla Pass in the Carpathian Mountains. Both pensives and truth serums verified the event."

Harry shook his head wondering if Dudley had managed to get some troll blood mixed in with him. "You also said that Hogwarts is protected by magic making it one of the safest places in the world, correct?"

Hermione nodded. "According to _Hogwarts, a History_, there are literally hundreds of protective charms, enchantments, and traps from the gates, across the grounds, to the doors and windows of the buildings as well as within the interior of Hogwarts Castle itself. It is protected from aerial attack as well as from below. Even the lake has spells on it. It would take an army to overcome all the spells and they would need time to do so."

"And yet a creature that couldn't outwit the average goose just wanders in?" Harry asked. "He gets all the way down to the dungeons without anyone the wiser?"

Neville, Ron, and Hermione stared at Harry and each other with speculative looks on their faces. A half of dozen different possibilities quickly occurred to them but each was just as quickly rejected. Only one scenario seemed likely.

"Someone had to bring the troll in," Hermione finally said.

"But why?" Neville asked. "To steal some apple pies?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "I'm sure that Dumbledore is asking himself the same question."

"I think the question would be who more then how or why," Hermione said.

"Is there any sort of treasure here at Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"There wasn't anything of the kind mentioned in _Hogwarts, a History,"_ Hermione said. "Ron? Neville?"

"I have never heard about any treasure here," Ron replied as Neville shook his head in agreement. "If there had been any rumours about a hoard I'm sure Fred and George would have been hot on the trail by now. They know the castle better then the masons who built it."

"It's funny but I keep thinking about Hagrid's package," Harry said.

"You mean that newspaper clipping you found in his cabin?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "You see, the day he took me to Gringott's to get money for the school year, he also removed a small package at Dumbledore's command from another vault. Hagrid was very mysterious about what it was; wouldn't answer a question about it. Anyway, the bank is broken into but the thieves weren't after just any swag but after some particular item. They headed straight for a single vault but it had been emptied earlier that day. Gringott's is supposed to be impregnable yet it was broken into. Hogwart's is supposed to be impregnable yet we have a troll on the loose in our halls."

"So you surmise that the item that the thieves were after in Gringott's has been transferred here? Hermione asked.

"Hagrid said that the only place safer then Gringott's was Hogwarts," Harry said.

"So what did the package look like?" Ron asked.

"It was small, oh, say about the size of two cassette cases stacked on each other wrapped in plain brown paper tied with twine," Harry replied. "It was a little uneven; not perfectly square."

"For someone who has to wear glasses you're very observant," Ron complemented his friend. "Now kindly tell me what a cassette case is and how big it is."

"A cassette is a way of recording music," Harry answered. "The case is what protects the cassette when it's not being played and it also tells you what the tape is."

"The tape?" Ron asked.

"Whoa, let's stop here before we get too far off the subject. Ron, this may be another unfamiliar comparison for you but the package would have been about the size of a bar of soap," Hermione needled.

"Yeah, I'm known throughout Devon as _Reeking Ron_," Ron said. "So something that would fit into your pocket, eh?"

"Something that small but attracts that much attention has too be some powerful magic item," Neville said. "But as to what it may be, I don't know."

The four brainstormed for a while as to what the item could be but could come to no satisfactory conclusion. Finally, they gave up.

"I don't suppose asking any of the professors would do any good?" Neville asked.

"I should say not as secretive as Hagrid was about it," Harry said.

"Well, what ever it is, I'm not going to lose any sleep over it," Ron said as he rose and stretched. "A shower and bed for me."

"Be sure to brush your teeth with extra care tonight after all this sugar," Hermione, the daughter of dentists, said as everyone began moving toward their rooms.

"Yes, mother," the three boys said together.

"Mother this," Hermione laughed giving the trio that famous English two fingered gesture as she disappeared up the stairs to the girl's dorm.

"You fellows have been a bad influence on that girl," Ron said mock seriously. "Her parents won't know her by June."


	7. chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction. The characters do not belong to me but to J. K. Rowling and her various publishers. No claims of originality or expectations of gain are made.

Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning

Chapter 7

A cold clear Christmas morning found Harry awaking in his dorm room. For the first time in his life, he was looking forward to happy Christmas day. The Dursleys would be in southern England and he would be at Hogwarts in the Scottish highlands. It was about as far away from them as he could from them and still remain in Great Britain. Instead of Dudley for _companionship_, He would spend the day with his best friend. The fact that he expected no gifts didn't diminish Harry's delight in the least.

The only dark cloud was that Ron had to fight to keep depression at bay. Like Harry, it would be Ron's first Christmas separated from his family. Unlike Harry, Ron would miss his relatives although he did try to put a brave face on the matter.

"It's just a part of growing up, I suppose," he said gamely when Harry tried to commiserate with him during a match of wizard's chess. "It's not as if I'm suddenly some penniless waif selling matchsticks on a frigid street corner on Christmas day. I mean, I have three brothers here after all, don't I? And a good friend, to boot."

Harry missed Hermione and Neville but the void that they left was somewhat filled by the older Weasley Brothers. Fred and George took Ron and Harry under their wing and together they explored the castle from towers to dungeons save for the out of bounds third floor corridor which Mr. Filch guarded zealously. Hogwarts had stood for nearly a thousand years so every room, every nook and cranny, every stone practically had some history attached to it. Ron and Harry were shown where the school legends said wizards had died in duels, where dispirited students had taken their own lives often in spectacular fashion, and where the entrances were to secret passages but surprisingly the two younger boys were cautioned not to use them.

"For the time being, anyway," George said. "It's best you avoid them."

"After you become master prowlers like us and know how to avoid Filch, feel free to explore them at your will," Fred added. "Although I hate to tell you, Ronnikins but you just don't have the knack to be a skulker."

"An honest man doesn't need to fear having his footfalls heard," Ron pronounced gravely although very much tongue in cheek.

"Adopted, he is," George said in a parody of sorrow

Fred nodded in mock agreement. "Definitely. He can't be a Weasley."

When Ron and Harry asked how they learned about the passages they just smiled. "Messrs. Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail," Fred answered mysteriously.

They also met dozens of ghosts. Harry found that most of them to have very interesting stories to tell even if their favorite topic of conversation seemed to be how they met their deaths. Unbeknownst to the boys they were learning a fair amount about life through listening to the experiences of the ghosts and their tales of love and loss, of courage and cowardice, of honor and deceit.

One memorable afternoon was spent in the company of a suit of armor which apparently knew every joke told in the last six centuries although some were bawdier then should have been told to thirteen and eleven year old boys, not that they minded in the least. They laughed until their sides ached and would have stayed longer if Professor Sinistra hadn't rounded the corner in the midst of an exceptionally racy story about three witches and a particularly flexible vampire.

Harry encountered house elves for the first time down in Hogwart's vast kitchens. He was surprised and somewhat embarrassed by the near adulation the elves expressed upon meeting him. They nigh on danced around him in their excitement and pressed more food on him then he could have eaten in a week but Harry was too polite to refuse what was clearly meant as an honor to him.

The four boys even managed to elude Hagrid's watchful eye and got into the Forbidden Forest. They could hear Fang barking on the far side of the grounds as they sped hooting into the trees but they were deep enough within the wood even with the bareness of the branches by the time the groundskeeper came around to be spotted. Fred and George spent that foggy morning pointing out the various unique creatures that inhabited the Forbidden Forest and the leavings of the nocturnal creatures which showed their passage during the night. Like their older brother Charlie, the Weasley twins had a deep interest in magical creatures although their interest lay more in the various venoms and secretions that the creatures produced then the creatures themselves. The boys' sylvan outing was cut short when they came across a troop of centaurs. The centaurs insisted that they leave the forest for their own safety but not before each of them solemnly shook Harry's hand.

Harry, who had always seen himself as nothing but a human punching bag, slowly began to have glimmers of what the _Boy Who Lived _meant to the magical community. With glacial speed, a sense of self worth was being born in Harry's psyche.

Harry was beginning to debate whether or not to get out of bed when the matter was decided for him. Three pillows hit him in rapid succession.

"Oy, up and at it, Harry!" Ron yelled. "Or I'll trade your presents for chocolate frogs!"

"Presents?" Harry asked flinging the pillows back at Ron and fumbling for his glasses. "I've got presents?"

"Well, yeah," Ron answered as he picked up the pillows and lobbed them back to Dean, Neville and Seamus' empty beds. "What were you expecting? Turnips?"

At the foot of Harry's bed was indeed a pile of gifts. Harry was flabbergasted. While the pile was nowhere near as large as Ron's, it was more gifts the he had ever received before at anytime. Harry stood and stared not knowing what present to start with. Ron solved the dilemma by forcing a box wrapped in plain paper into his hands.

"From me," he said. "I don't have any money so I made these for you last night. I hope that the charm worked on them."

Harry quickly ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the box. Two-dozen oatmeal cookies, as warm as if they had just been pulled from the oven, lined a shoebox. Harry inhaled deeply as the cookies' wonderful aroma seductively filled the dorm room.

"Oh, man," Harry moaned as he bit into one. "They taste as good as they smell. Give me a box of these a month and I'll do your homework for the next seven years. You actually made these?"

Ron nodded, a broad smile plastered across his face. "Yeah, I did. It's my Great-Grandmother's recipe. I had quite a time convincing the house elves to let me use the kitchen last night but they finally relented. The hard part was the warming charm. I had to go to Professor Flitwick to make sure that I had it correct."

"You got it dead on," Harry said extending the box to Ron. "Nothing else in the stack will come close to these, I sure."

"I sure that something will," Ron said plucking a cookie out of the box. "But thank you for saying so."

"I gave Hermione money to buy a certain thing for you," Harry said. "Did it arrive?"

Ron turned and began to paw through his gifts.

"Aha," he exclaimed yanking a crimson and green wrapped present from the heap.

"To Ron from Harry," he read and immediately began tearing paper sending bits of it flying in every direction.

"It's a book," Harry said unnecessarily as Ron finished ripping off the paper.

"_The How of Everything,"_ Ron intoned.

"It explains how most mechanical and electrical things work in the muggle world," Harry said. "I wasn't too sure about some of the answers that I gave you on the train but I remembered seeing this book in m my old school library so I asked Hermione to buy you a copy for me."

"This is beyond cool," Ron said as he thumbed through the book. "Wait until Dad sees this. He'll probably be up for a week reading and rereading this. Thanks, Harry."

"Well, the book will keep," Harry said. "Let's get to the rest of the loot."

A blizzard of wrapping paper shreds rained down upon the two laughing boys as they attacked their gifts. Harry, who truly expected nothing, was beside himself at the number of people who had given him presents. In addition to Ron's cookies, Mrs. Wealsey had sent him some fudge and a knitted sweater.

"You got a Weasley sweater, too eh," Ron joked punching Harry lightly on the arm as Harry slid the sweater over his head. Harry was dumbfounded that a near stranger went through the effort to knit him a sweater and bake for him. Harry suddenly felt closer to a woman that he had met only briefly in a railway station then he had ever felt toward his Aunt Petunia who had raised him.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon sent him fifty pence. "Of course, it's more then I got them," Harry thought knowing that he did not dare let the Dursleys know that he had any money what so ever let alone a fortune in gold and silver.

Hagrid had given Harry a hand carved wooden flute. "We'll be jamming together in no time," Ron said as Harry played a few notes on the instrument which had a vaguely owl like sound.

Hermione had sent him a thick songbook titled _Folk Songs of Britain_.

"I guess I better concentrate on the Scottish section," Harry said to Ron as he leafed through the songs.

"Learn _Scotland the Brave _and _Mist Covered Mountains_ and those fifty points of yours will be forgiven even before you sing _The Twa Sisters_," Ron joshed.

Neville, also, gave Harry a book for Christmas. It was a large tome covered in smooth dark blue leather with gold leaf lettering: _The House of Potter by Veronica Whiteacre. _Neville's card explained that the book had been written in 1887 by his thrice great grandmother and covered the generations of Potters from 1603 until 1872.

"Someone actually wrote a book about my family," Harry said in disbelief.

"I told you that your family was famous, Harry," Ron said at the look of marvel in his friend's eyes. "Don't be surprised if some of what is in that book makes an appearance in our History of Magic class sometime."

Harry was about to disappear into his bed with his family history when Ron piped up.

"Hey, you forgot one, Harry."

With great reluctance, Harry sat his book aside on his bed. The last gift proved to be soft and lightweight if rather bulky. A shimmering multicolored robe was revealed as the last of the paper was ripped away.

"Whoa, I know what that is," Ron said in awe. "Put it on!"

Harry draped the robe around him and promptly disappeared from view.

"An invisibility cloak, I knew it," Ron squeaked excitedly. "Do you know how rare those are? Who sent it to you?"

Harry took the robe off and picked up a note that he had seen fall to the floor.

_Your Father left this in my care before He died._

_ It's time that it was returned to you._

There was no signature.

"I don't know," Harry replied showing the note to Ron. Harry felt an overwhelming tide of emotions well up within him. For the first time in his life he had a tangible connection with his father. The cloak that he held had been held by his father. It was too much for the orphaned lad. He sat down on his bed and buried his face within the folds of the robe. He fancied that he caught a faint scent of aftershave as he cried his heart out.

Ron thought it best to let his friend's tears to run their course. Mutely, he began to pick up all of the scattered paper and ribbon all the while keeping an ear tuned to Harry. The last of the paper and Harry's composure were collected at about the same time.

"You all right now, mate?" Ron asked gently as he stuffed a giant ball of wrapping paper into the dustbin.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry replied. "I was just a bit overcome there for a moment."

Ron shrugged. "A kid with no family ties suddenly has family gear thrust upon him. A kid that by his own admission never has had a decent Christmas finally has one. I can see where it could get to you."

"Yeah," Harry sighed as he wiped his eyes on his pajama sleeves. "It's weird. I feel sort of sad but at the same time I'm also too happy really to be sad if you know what I'm trying to say. "

"I guess so," Ron said. "It's like a well written sad song. It's sad, of course, but it makes you feel good to heard it."

Harry smiled broadly although his eyelashes were still wet. "That about nails it."

"Remind me to write the thank you notes after breakfast, Harry," Ron said as he stacked his gifts on his bed. "Mum will have a fit if she finds out that I didn't do so promptly and it is simply good manners."

"Will do," Harry said as he too gathered his gifts. "I can remember some of my old schoolmates use to complain about having to write thank you notes after Christmas. I can only say 'Fantastic. I get to write thank you notes.'"

"Not to change the subject but I would like you to do me another favor, Harry," Ron said seriously. "Please don't mention your cloak to Fred or George."

Harry frowned. "Sure but why?" he asked.

"Mercy, they get into enough trouble as it is," Ron replied. "Something like that in their hands; they'd be expelled before spring."

Harry laughed heartily. "You're probably right about that. I'll hide it in my chest and won't mention it to anyone."

"Hermione and Neville could be trusted with the secret," Ron said. "They aren't gossips."

Harry carefully folded the cloak. He almost ceremoniously opened the chest. He tossed what he plan to wear that day on his bed and after a quick rearranging of the rest of the contents, placed his father's cloak at the very bottom. It was quickly buried beneath his clothing.

"What do you think that they would do?" Harry asked as he shut the lid. "Your brothers, I mean."

"Dung bombs in the Slytherin common room. Eels in the prefects' baths. Who knows? I don't have their inventive imagination," Ron replied with a shudder. "It would definitely be something legends are made of to be sure."

"Now you have gone and tempted _me_," Harry joked.

"If you get expelled, you go back to your Aunt and Uncle. Knowing that you know that, I know that I can trust your self control," Ron chuckled. "Let's get dressed and get some breakfast."

"I'll even wear my new _maroon_ sweater," he added rolling his eyes.

"There's a plan," Harry said but his mind remained with the mysterious shimmering cloak at the bottom of his chest.

**_A/N:_** (1) As always I would like to use this space to thank those who reviewed my story. **Cariluv **and **_Venus4280 (aka the next JKR)_** left rather nice reviews on my last chapter. Thank you both!!

(2) in re, Venus4280's comments on the amount of reviews. It's nice of you to say that I deserve more reviews but I really don't worry about it. I actually write fan fiction for the practice of writing (and to alter the stories a bit too). As any editor will say an author must keep the target audience in mind while writing and the main audience for these stories on are teenagers and they prefer tales of romance and angst and, of course, this story is neither so it should be expected that few would read it. I think that the site is up to 173,000 stories so there is a lot of competition for readers. If I wrote a tale about a lust triangle between a suicidal Harry, a confused Hermione, and an ambiguous Draco and tossed in a gay Ron and a vampire Ginny, I could rack up the reviews but my muse simply won't supply me with any such stories.


	8. chapter 8

**_Disclaimer:_** This is a work of fan fiction based on the characters and plots created by J. K. Rowling and owned by her and her various publishers. I have no claims of originality or ownership or any expectation of gain other then the warm, fuzzy feeling I get when someone takes the time to write a review of my writing.

**_A/N:_** (1) Speaking of warm and fuzzy, I would like to thank **venus4280** and **anss123** for their kind words on my last chapter and also thank **Elizabeth Morgana** (a fine writer, check out her fan fics "Bridge between the Times" and "Christmas Party") for adding me to her favorite authors list. You all (_Y'all as it would be said in mah_ _natch'l voice_) and the rest of those who have reviewed make a bleak winter a little cheerier.

(2) I apologize for the delay of this chapter being posted. I had difficulty in getting it to where I wanted it to be and now that classes have resumed at the university, I have less time for writing.

_Harry Potter and the New Day Dawning_

Chapter 8

Harry was thoroughly angry when he left the Gryffindor dormitory. The invisibility cloak that he had received for Christmas had opened up to him opportunities to explore the nearly deserted castle with impunity. Harry seized the chance with zest reveling in the sheer freedom of movement. He even explored two of the secret passages that Fred and George had shown him.

It was on his third night of investigating the hidden riddles of Hogwarts that Harry found the mirror. It was covered by a sheet sitting in a corner of a long unused classroom. Harry wondered briefly about the number of empty classrooms and if there had been more students at Hogwarts in the distant past then there were now in the modern age but such musings were pushed from his head as soon as he pulled the sheet off revealing the mirror.

It was a large old fashioned full length looking glass. Around its wooden frame were craved nonsense words but what captured Harry's attention was what he saw as he peered into the glass.

Harry had never seen so much as a single photograph of either of his parents or any other Potter for that matter yet he knew to the bottom of his soul that the people who appeared in the mirror were his family. Starting with Hagrid back in July, person after person had told Harry that he was the very image of his father and there, staring at him from the clear depths of the looking glass with a crooked grin, untidy hair and glasses was a grown version of Harry.

Except for the eyes for in place of dark eyes that gleamed with undeniable intelligence and rakishness, Harry saw his own melancholy green eyes peering back at him from the face of a beautiful young woman with long red hair. Surprising Harry, his mother looked a great measure like her sister Petunia but where the sharp facial angles had given Petunia a rather strident appearance, Lily's had been soften ever so slightly leaving her with an arrestingly handsome if somewhat pale face.

Beyond his parents were multitudes of other people. Generation after generation of Potters, their mode of dress giving Harry some clue as to what era they lived, waved to him from the other side of the mirror. Harry waved back for a while then sat on the floor before the mirror and just drank in the faces in the mirror. Sleep finally overtook him in the wee hours of morning.

What had triggered Harry's anger was Ron's reaction at breakfast the following morning when Harry came bursting into the Great Hall as Ron was spooning honey into his bowl of oatmeal. In a rushed whisper Harry related what he had found the previous night. Ron was not as excited as Harry expected his best friend to have been.

"Harry, I'm glad that you were finally able to see what your parents and kin look like," Ron began slowly. "But I think you should avoid that looking glass for a while until we can find out something about it."

Harry was confused and hurt by Ron's lack of delight for him. Didn't Ron realize how important this was to him?

"Why should I do that?" Harry demanded hotly.

"Magic objects aren't always what they appear to be," Ron began. "I would even say that they are rarely what they appear to be. My Dad works for the _Misuse of Muggle Artifacts _department at the Ministry and he has hundreds of stories about everyday things enchanted for some very nasty purposes. They look very innocent but they aren't at all."

"I don't think there is anything wrong with the mirror," Harry shot back.

"You don't have the skill to recognize if the mirror is dangerous or not, Harry," Ron answered. "I don't either. If you are determined to use the mirror again, ask one of the teachers about it first."

The mirror was too private for Harry to share with anyone but Ron and now his best friend was tossing the invitation back to Harry. His rejection cut Harry to the quick.

Harry pushed himself away from the table and began to march away.

"Harry, listen to me," Ron called out. "Anything enchanted that you don't know where the source of magic comes from should be treated with caution."

Silently, Harry strode out of the Great Hall without a backward glance. He was furious at Ron. "He _has _family," Harry thought. "He couldn't possibly understand what the mirror means to me; seeing my mum and dad. He takes that for granted."

Harry stopped in a patch of sunlight pouring through a window. His hunger for his parents had driven any thought of physical hunger from his mind. He ached for knowledge of them. Harry suddenly spied the groundskeeper out on the vast snow covered lawns of the school.

"Hagrid!" he thought excitedly. "He knew Mum and Dad!"

Harry raced up to Gryffindor tower to grab his over coat and gloves. Within minutes, he was trotting along side Hagrid through the snow peppering him with questions about his parents. Hagrid didn't disappoint Harry. James and Lily Potter were among his favorite people and he had a lot of stories to tell about them especially about the escapades of the _Marauders _although at times Hagrid would fall silent and geta distant look in his eyes as if he were thinking on other memories that he didn't share with Harry. Harry didn't mind for the huge groundskeeper fed him plenty of tales not withstanding. Story after story tumbled from Hagrid's lips.

"I tell you the truth," Hagrid said after one particularly sidesplitting tale. "If Dumbledore knew what the four of them would have gotten up to, he'd overridden the _Sorting Hat_ right from the start and put the four of them into separate houses although that probably wouldn't have been enough to rein them in."

"Everyone kept expecting them to get expelled," he continued. "But they just didn't know Dumbledore. He loves a good joke better then anyone I've ever known and he's a forgiving man. Always willing to give folks another chance, y' see. Anyway, none of the stunts you dad ever pulled hurt anyone and he was an excellent student and a star quidditch player, too which helped when it came to overlooking some of his, shall we say, more boisterous gags. It was a lively seven years around here with your dad and his mates running wild."

"Did mum help him with any of the pranks?" Harry asked.

Hagrid laughed deeply. "I should say not, lad! Lily was a very serious young woman. Not stuffy or pretentious, mind you but she was here to learn all she could. She, also, was far too kindhearted to fool someone even if it was just in innocent fun. She and your dad spent their first six years here quarrelling. She disapproved of his antics and, as they grew older, James' rather cavalier attitude toward women (he had a new girlfriend every week, for a while there) and Lily let him know about her distain in no uncertain terms. James was crazy about her so he had a hard time trying to defend his side of things to Lily."

"It sounds as if mum was a bit of a wet blanket," Harry said slightly disappointed.

"Oh far from it," Hagrid reassured him. "She had a fine sense of humour; a real dry wit she was. She was one of those folks who would say something and an hour later it hits you that she said something hilarious but it was delivered so cleverly you didn't notice it."

"So people liked her?" Harry asked.

"Surely they did," Hagrid answered. "Teachers loved her because she was a model student, quiet and smart. Girls liked her because with her looks and popularity she could have wielded a wicked amount of power but again, she was simply one of the kindest, sweetest people I have ever known so she never set up a clique of any sort. She went out of her way to make sure that no girl was ostracized by the others."

"Now the boys," Hagrid chuckled. "Well, there were two groups of boys at Hogwarts while Lily was here. There were those that had a secret crush on her and there were the rest of them that made no secret of it at all."

"So, if my mum didn't like my dad, how did they come to get married," Harry asked.

"Well, she didn't dislike him," Hagrid replied. "She disapproved of his prank playing. When they were appointed Head Boy and Girl, they were in each others company quite a bit more. Your dad changed enough for him to finally win her over. They ended up getting married before they even got their N.E.W.T.s back. They were married right here at Hogwarts in fact; down by the lake. Big party in the Great Hall afterward. We sent James and Lily off with one memorable bash. I was in bed for three days with a hangover; the maid of honor woke up with an interesting tattoo where only her most intimate friends would ever see it and the best man came to in Morocco. I never did find out how that herd of llamas got into the astronomy tower though."

"The way you described Mum, I wouldn't have thought she would be at such a party," Harry said.

"Oh, I'm sure that she wouldn't have but she and James left for Scandinavia shortly after the reception began to start their honeymoon," Hagrid answered. "I think that it was such dark times many of the guests took advantage of the safety of Hogwarts to forget their fears for a moment and have a carefree time which simply wasn't possible anywhere else in those years."

"I wish that I had some photographs of the wedding," Harry said sadly. "Or any photographs at all of Mum and Dad."

"Didn't your aunt ever show you any of the wedding pictures?" Hagrid asked in surprise. "She was here and I know that your grandparents got a set of photographs before they left."

"Aunt Petunia was here at Hogwarts?" Harry exclaimed stunned at the revelation. "And my muggle grandparents?"

"To be sure they were," Hagrid said. "You didn't think that Lily would get married without her family present, did you? I remember your granddad, tall thin man with very white hair, marching Lily to the altar; happy and sad like all dads seem to be on that occasion. And your poor grandmother, slowing dying at the time but not letting anyone know as not to spoil Lily's wedding with any sorrow. She and Professor Talbois, the DADA professor at the time hit it off well. As it happened both had grown up within a few years of each other in the same town and knew many of the same people. Neither of them lived to see the next summer."

"I remember both of your granddads and Professor Dumbledore, Caradoc Dearborn, and Edgar Bones linked arm and arm singing Irish drinking songs as the night wore on," Hagrid continued with a sad smile on his face. He suddenly pulled out a handkerchief and gave his nose a loud blow.

"Sorry about that," He said as he returned he handkerchief to his pocket. "It's just that so many that were so alive on that day were dead in such a short time."

"What about my Aunt Petunia," Harry asked pushing his thoughts quickly away from the death of his parents.

"At first, she seemed very nervous especially around me and the centaurs," Hagrid answered. "Your aunt took one look at me and downed her glass of cherry wine in one gulp. Mrs. Potter, your grandmother tried to put her at ease but in the end it was a few more glasses of cherry wine that finally did the trick. She looked as if she was enjoying herself by sundown. More then one wizard there gave her more then a once over but a few of us kept an eye on her to make sure she didn't get into many mischief she might regret once she sobered up in the morning."

Try as he might, Harry couldn't imagine his aunt either drunk or being attractive in anyone's eye.

"Come on, Harry," Hagrid said glancing at the setting sun. "It's nigh on suppertime and I have some roast boar that'll make you swear off beef."

It was an hour after full dark before Harry returned to the Gryffindor tower. The stories that Hagrid had told him were still ringing in his ears. They went a long way in helping Harry in getting to know his parents. He wished that he could be like his father, bold, daring, cocky, and filled with self confidence. Thinking about his mother and what a wonderful woman she was, Harry struggled to understand the motives of anyone who would kill such a person.

Harry felt the tug of the mirror when he entered the castle. It grew stronger and stronger as he ascended the stairs to his dormitory. By the time he reached his room, the compulsion was overwhelming. Ron was lying on his bed reading the book Harry had given him for Christmas. He smiled and nodded to Harry as Harry peeled off his coat and gloves. Harry, still hurting from that morning's perceived slight ignored him. Instead, he flipped opened his chest and pulled out his invisibility cloak. With a pronounced flourish, Harry disappeared under its folds.

Ron sighed.

"Good Hunting," he called out as the dorm room door opened.

Harry raced through the corridors barely mindful of the need for stealth yet he encountered no one on the way to the classroom and the amazing mirror there in. The halls were empty. Harry yanked opened the classroom door and ducked inside. He tossed the cloak negligently on a nearby desk as he slid to a halt in front of the mirror. The images of his family were beginning to materialize.

"Back again, Harry?"

Harry whirled around. Dumbledore was sitting on a wooden chair not ten feet from where he was.

"Headmaster," Harry stammered. "I didn't see you there."

The ancient wizard chuckled softly. "It is amazing how invisibility can put blinders on so many. They can not be seen so they fail to see."

"Did Ron tell you that I was here?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "If you confided in Mr. Weasley, he kept your secret. No, Harry, the truth is that I am an old man and as the years have passed, I seem to need less and less sleep. I often prowl the passageways of Hogwarts at night and I have no need of a cloak to become invisible. Did you not find it odd that you woke up in here with a pillow under your head and a thick blanket between you and the cold stone floor?"

"I…I didn't notice, sir," Harry admitted. "Thank you."

"You are welcome," Dumbledore said. "Well, young Mr. Potter, like so many others in the past, you have discovered the delights of _The Mirror of Erised_. Do you understand what it does?"

"It shows me my family, sir," Harry answered promptly.

"Yes, it does but why does it?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't know, sir," Harry replied with a hint of defiance in his voice. "I'm only grateful that it does."

"What the mirror does is to show the viewer his innermost desire, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "You, a boy who had his connections to the past severed by fate, were shown the generations that preceded you. You essentially never knew your parents and the mirror brought their images to you."

"Ha," Harry barked. "So it isn't evil! Ron was wrong! He said that I should avoid the mirror."

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "Harry, what the mirror shows is an illusion created in your mind. I would not say that the mirror is evil but it is a seducer. Men have wasted away before _The Mirror of Erised_ tantalized beyond reason by a beautiful illusion. A man can not live within a dream. The Truth has to be embraced and we have to live in this world, no matter how cold, how cruel, how lonely it can be at times."

"I just wanted to see my family," Harry said. "What's wrong with that?"

"At what time did you find the mirror last night, Harry?" Dumbledore asked instead of answering the question.

"Eleven, Twelve, I'm not sure," Harry answered.

"And yet tonight you are back here before the castle evens beds down and may I add without bothering to bathe today," Dumbledore said. "You would again gaze into the mirror until you fell asleep. Tomorrow you would be back before noon if you bothered to leave this room at all."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Harry said forcefully.

"You would be," Dumbledore said sadly. "This mirror has given you the closest thing to a relationship with your parents that you have ever known. You can not resist it. The mirror will be given a new home tomorrow. Harry, please do not attempt to seek it out again."

"So another good thing gets snatched from me," Harry snarled.

Dumbledore raised one bushy eyebrow. "Harry, the vehemence of your reaction should tell you how much this mirror has all ready ensnared you with only one viewing," he said compassionately.

"Why can't I ever have one bit of happiness in my life," Harry complained.

"Self pity is an unattractive trait," the headmaster said. "There are plenty of folk in this world with far more serious problems in their lives then you have in yours."

Anger exploded through Harry demolishing his learned restraints. "Yeah, that's what adults always tell me when I complain about my lot. That is when they don't feel like beating me for not being grateful for living under a stairwell in Britain instead of starving at the base of some volcano in Africa. If you ask me, Voldemort didn't do me any favors by leaving me alive!"

"It is impossible to have a rational discussion with anyone when they are in a state such as you are now in, Harry," Dumbledore said calmly. "Take a long hot shower and go to bed. We will have lengthy conversation soon."

Harry grabbed his cloak and stormed out of the classroom. Dust fell as the slamming door reverberated behind him. Dumbledore stared at the door for a few moments. He did not need _The Mirror of Erised_ to show him his heart's desire but the truth has to be faced. Dumbledore suddenly felt the many, many years of his life weigh down upon him.

"Harry, I am so very sorry," he said softly. "I did what I had to do and you paid the price for it. You will have to pay the price for us all."

Harry did not obey the headmaster's orders. Instead he simply started walking. He walked blindly, not noticing where his feet lead him. He walked mindlessly up and down staircases and through hallway after hallway all the while muttering darkly about the injustices of things in general and in his life in particular.

After several hours, the mirror's hold on Harry unexpectedly snapped. The misery left him and he was abruptly exhausted. The hot shower and bed he snubbed earlier now seemed to Harry to be wonderful ideas. Unfortunately, Harry had no idea where he was other then somewhere in Hogwarts castle.

"Just great," he mumbled to himself as he continued forward down the unfamiliar windowless corridor hoping to eventually find something recognizable. "That shouldn't be too hard what with all the exploring I've done this past week."

The hall dead ended at a very large wooden door.

"If there's a window in there, I can at least find out what side of the castle I'm on and on what floor," Harry thought.

The door was locked.

"Bollocks!" Harry said fumbling for his wand. "What was that spell Hermione mentioned?"

Harry pointed his wand at the door. "Aloha something…something… something…Alohomora!"

The lock unbolted loudly. Grinning, Harry opened the door. Two seconds later the word he yelled was very nearly followed by the action it described.


	9. chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** _I didn't do nuthin', I don't own nuthin', I don't know nuthin'_. In other words this is a work of fan fiction based on the characters and situations created by and owned by J. K. Rowling. Some of you may have heard about her.

Chapter 9

"You don't believe me!" Harry accused a smiling Hermione as he told her and Neville, who had returned with the rest of their classmate late the previous evening, about the huge three-headed dog he had encountered in the out-of-bounds third floor corridor.

"Harry, if you say that Cerberus is living in Hogwarts castle then I believe you," Hermione replied. "I was just thinking about how much I have changed in just four months. Now I have no trouble accepting the existence of creatures that I once thought were fanciful."

"Okay, I'll bite," Ron said. "Who's Cerberus?"

"Cerberus was, in Greek mythology, the guardian to the entrance to the underworld," Hermione recited. "He was a giant three-headed dog with a serpent for a tail and his back was covered with the heads of snakes. His capture was Hercules' final labour."

"Is there anything that you don't know?" Ron asked.

"I don't know why the French try to convince the world that snails are gourmet cuisine," she replied.

"Well, this dog didn't have a snake tail," Harry said. "And it just had hair on its back but it's big enough to guard anything."

"Was there something in the room?" Neville asked.

Harry shook his head and looked at Ron.

"I didn't see anything when we went back," Ron said.

"Oh, you saw it too, then?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, Harry took me back there the night after he found it," Ron replied. "We snuck right past Filch. The cloak easily covered the both of us."

"That's not logical," Hermione said with a frown. "You just don't put a giant dog in an out of the way antechamber for no reason. Was there a stairwell or something like that in the room?"

Ron and Harry screwed up their faces in concentration.

Ron finally tossed up his hands. "I'm sorry but I really didn't notice. Odd but a giant three-headed dog was enough to hold my attention."

After several moments, Harry changed expression.

"There was a trapdoor under one of the dog's front paws," he said. "At least, I believe it to be a trapdoor."

"Well, it would only make sense," Neville responded. "Like Hermione said why else would you have such an animal in a room?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "I'm just glad that I don't have to fed him or muck out the room. That would be a serious detention."

"I'm sure that there are charms that handle such mundane chores for the beast," Hermione chuckled. "And speaking of charms, you have got to teach me that charm you used on those cookies you sent me, Ron. They were still oven warm when I opened the box. It would be handy on picnics. Mum wants the recipe, too if it isn't magic."

"Gran was impressed with your charm craft, too," Neville said. "She said that I had obviously chosen my friends well. In other words, your cookies earned me some brownie points."

Neville's three friends groaned.

"That was awful," Hermione said with a laugh.

"You're lucky there's nothing handy to throw at you," Ron added. "But I'm glad that you all liked them. The recipe and the ingredients are ordinary. It's just plain baking."

"By the way, Harry," Neville said. "I didn't mind buying and sending to Hermione her gift from you but you know that there are mail order services in the magical community, don't you?"

"Uh, no, actually I didn't," Harry answered. "That book you sent me is fantastic. I'm about a third of the way through."

Hermione perked up at the word book. "What's it about?"

"It's about my family," Harry answered. "It starts with Owain Crochenydd who was born in 1603 near Llandrindod. He came from a Welsh wizard family but he was the first to attend Hogwarts. That and other disputes caused some friction between him and his family which sadly led to a complete break in 1625. He started calling himself Owen Potter, the English form of his name and became an alchemist. He was finally able to make a philosopher's stone in 1672 which was the beginning of the Potter family fortune."

"Whoa, a real philosopher's stone," Hermione exclaimed. "Documented and everything?"

"What's a philosopher's stone?" Ron asked.

"Really, Ron," Hermione sounded surprised. "You come from an ancient wizard family and you don't know what it is?"

"Enlighten me," Ron replied sardonically.

"It's the goal of all alchemists to create a philosopher's stone. It can transform any metal into pure gold and it can be use to create the _Elixir of Life_ which can prolong life indefinitely as long as it is drunk daily," Hermione explained.

"Wealth and immortality," Ron mused. "I wonder why alchemy isn't taught here."

"The number of alchemists who ever accomplished anything of note is few," Neville said. "The number who was able to create a philosopher's stone could probably be counted without taking off your shoes. It usually brought more grief then anything else."

"It did in Owen Potter's instance," Harry said. "In 1675, Dark wizards attacked his laboratory hoping to gain the stone. They were killed but so were Owen's daughter Gaenor, his son, Trynt, his son-in-law, his daughter-in-law, and his granddaughter. Owen's grandson, Romney was the only member of his family to survive the attack other then Owen himself. "

"In his anguish Owen destroyed the stone and burned all of his alchemy notes then he took his own life using poison. He spent over fifty years trying to make the stone and the stone caused the ruin of his life in less then three years."

"I hoped that the rest of your relatives were more fortunate," Hermione said.

"So-so," Harry replied. "Romney had an unhappy life but most of it he brought upon himself. He constantly quarreled with his fellow wizards over trivial matters. His wife ran off to America with a wizard that had been one of Romney's few friends. She left Romney to raise their four children. His daughter Matilda married a Flemish wizard against his wishes so he disinherited her. His eldest son, Hugh, had no magical ability so Romney sent him off to sea when the boy was ten. His middle son, John was fifteen when he overdosed on some sort of narcotical potion that was the rage at the time and the youngest son Mark was killed when he was twenty-two by a wizard who caught Mark in bed with his wife."

"Sad," Neville said.

Hermione frowned. "Did Mark or John have any children?"

"No," Harry answered. "They never married."

"That isn't a bar to siring children," Hermione said. "So did one of Matilda's children adopt the name of Potter?"

"No."

"Do I have to drag the answer out of you by force, Harry?" Hermione demanded. "How did the Potter name continued after Romney's death?"

Ron laughed. "You're the smartest one here. Apply a little thought; it should be obvious."

"Hugh Potter?" Hermione ventured.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Instead of disappearing, Hugh prospered and by the time he was in his early forties, He owned and commanded his own merchantman and had part interest in three other trading ships. He married the widow of one of his friends, a fellow captain, and I think surprising themselves and just about every one else in Bristol, they had a son whom they named Christopher after his mother's first husband but they always called him Kit."

"Kit grew up strong and clever and was the joy of his aged parents. He even accompanied his father on two voyages but what the sea had no lure for him. After his tutors had taught him all they could, Kit traveled to the Netherlands and studied medicine at Leyden University and became a physician."

"But Kit had a problem; weird things were always happening when he was angry or frightened. He finally told his father about it one day. Hugh knew what it meant and confessed to his son about his background. Hugh explained to Kit about how the wizarding community lived side by side with the rest of England yet were hidden from it also. Kit was mostly interested by his father's talk of the magical healers."

"Long story short, Kit eventually wound up at St Mungo's apprenticed to the Healers there. One of the first patients he encountered was his dying grandfather Romney. Romney was thrilled to have a grandson with both the Potter name and magic skills but he refused to be reconciled with Hugh at all. That's as far as I've gotten in the book."

"Romney sounds like he was a real bastard but Kit seems likable so far," Hermione said.

"I've seen his portrait at St. Murgo's," Neville said. "He is considered one of the great healers."

"Cool," Harry said with a tingling of family pride.

"I wonder why magic can skip generations like that." Hermione asked.

"Why did it appear in you? Are you a witch's daughter left on a muggle doorstep like Harry here? Are your parents actually squibs and never told you?" Ron asked rhetorically. "None of our scientists have ever been able to discover why some people have the ability to do magic and others can't. We are all human after all with the same anatomy and everything."

"There would have to be two generations of non magical folk in my background for I know all four of my grandparents and I don't think that I'm a foundling because I look just like my Mum who looks like her Mum," Hermione replied. "I wonder if the library has any books on the subject."

"Probably," Ron said. "But what you'll find is a lot of speculation with little fact to back it up. Most witches and wizards believe in the _Will of God_ theory and leave it at that."

"Not to downplay the role of the Divine in our lives but He always struck me as a very logical creator," Hermione said. "There is a reason for everything."

"Even escargot?" Neville asked.

"Undoubtedly it was a case of making a virtue of necessity," Hermione answered. "But I don't think that we'll find the answers today. It's still a couple of hours before lunch. What say you all to finding an empty classroom and practicing a song or two out of those songbooks that I sent each of you? I brought my mother's old bodhran back with me."

"Hagrid carved me a wooden keyless Irish flute for Christmas," Harry said. "Nearly Headless Nick has been teaching me how to play it. We've been working on _Scotland_ _the Brave."_

"That sounds like a good place to start then," Hermione said. "Go get your instruments."

**A/N**: (1) As always I would like to take this time to thank those who have reviewed my story. _Merci, ElizabethMorgana!_ _I__ hope that things are well in __Canada_

(2) I realize that this is a bit of a short chapter with little happening. Its purpose was, of course, to bring to the foursome knowledge of Philosopher's Stones (a name I prefer since it is the correct one for the stone. I find it insulting that the U. S. publishers of JKR's novel thought that we **_ignorant_ **Americans would flee in terror from the word philosopher in the title of a book)


	10. chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Undoubtedly, upon reading this, the buzz in Stockholm will be about creating a Nobel Prize for fan fiction. In my acceptance speech, I will acknowledge that the characters and situations were created by J. K. Rowling and are owned by her and her various publishers as I do here.

Chapter 10

At Hogwarts, the snows of winter gave way grudgingly to the rains of spring. The temperatures climbed slowly but the skies were determined to remain slate gray. Heavy clouds obscured the sun for days on end and the winds kept a lingering chill in the air.

Gryffindor's four favorite first formers however paid scant heed to the weather. The pace of their studies increased as did their wonder at uncovering the mysteries of magic. Hermione, with her highly disciplined and organized nature, set up study schedules for herself and her three closest friends in early February.

"The examinations are closer then you think they are and there is no way that you would be able to cram for them," Hermione said as she presented the timetables. "These subjects are just too complex."

The boys grumbled a bit in a _pro forma _manner more to tease Hermione then any other reason. Harry especially was grateful for the extra study sessions. While his marks were good, indeed he was among the highest ranking students in his form, he still had the fear of failing and being forced to return to number four Privet Drive and the less then loving care of his only relatives.

It was this dedication to study that found the _fab four_ on the rooftop after supper one spring evening. The sky had miraculously cleared prompting the four to ask permission to go up to the observation deck to study constellations for their astronomy class. Professor McGonagall readily allowed them leave to do so. Professor Sinistra gave her leave only after Harry and Ron assured her that they weren't actually seeking out the yarn spinning suit of armor. She opened up her store room and gave them two small portable telescopes in long round cases.

"You should be able to spot the constellations without any aid," Professor Sinistra assured them. "But if you are feeling in an adventurous mood may be these can help you along in your study of the night skies. I think that eight points to Gryffindor may encourage others to follow your example."

The foursome left thanking the Astronomy Professor for both the points and the telescopes.

"What does that leave us with making up?" Harry asked as he slung one of the telescopes on his back and headed up a staircase. "Ninety-eight?"

"Ninety-six," Neville answered strapping the other telescope across his back.

"We're practically there," Ron said bring up the rear.

"What was that about a ribald suit of armor?" Hermione asked.

Ron related to the girl his, Harry's, and the Weasley Twins encounter with the comedic suit of armor during Christmas break but he and Harry were far too polite to repeat any but the cleanest of the jokes to Hermione.

Shortly after sundown, the four of them had set up two telescopes and were taking turns seeking out the spring constellations that Professor Sinistra had described in class.

They were able to check off star group after star group on their list. _Ursa Major_ was the easiest to find. _Virgo _and_ Leo _and otherswere captured by the sharp-eyed quartet but _Centaurus_ was proving elusive.

"I've seen everything but invading aliens and _Centaurus," _Ron said as he and Neville swept the skies with the pair of telescopes having given up searching by eye alone. "Are you sure that it's a spring constellation, Hermione?"

"It has been for only for a few thousand years, now. Ptolemy even described it," Hermione answered. "If we wait a few millenniums or so, Earth will have moved enough in space for it to disappear but for now it's up there somewhere."

"Maybe it hasn't risen yet," Neville ventured, his eye still peering through his instrument.

"Go back to scanning the skies with just your eyes," Harry injected.

"There's an idea, mate," Ron said as he stepped away from his telescope and rubbed his eyes. "I am about cross-eyed from looking for that stupid constellation."

"It should be easy to find," Hermione said. "According to the textbook here it is one of the largest constellations there is and…oh."

"Oh?" Ron asked. "Why do I feel that I am going to just love what comes next?"

"Everyone makes mistakes, Ron," Hermione said closing her textbook

"Now I know that I'm going to love this," Ron laughed. "Come on, guys. Gather 'round. Oh, do carry on, Hermione."

"Really, Ron," she said exasperated. "It isn't as if I have never made an error before."

"True," Ron chuckled. "But they are so rare that they are noteworthy enough to amaze us mere mortals. So what is it? It's an autumn constellation, isn't it?"

"No, it's a spring one," she replied. "But it's a southern one. It can't be seen above 30 degrees north. Hogwarts is somewhat beyond the 56th parallel north."

"So we have found all of the constellations that can be seen from here then?" Harry inquired.

Hermione quickly scanned her list. "Yes, _Centaurus _was the final one. Let's return the telescopes and go get some tea. I'm rather chilly."

"Hot chocolate would be better maybe with some little marshmallows in it," Ron said as he folded up the portable telescope. Harry came over with its case.

"What are you looking at, Neville?" Hermione asked as she brought the other telescope case over to her classmate. Neville had his telescope pointed toward the forbidden forest.

"For a moment, I thought that Hagrid's cabin was on fire," he said. "I thought I saw a flare up but I guess…wait there's another one. His house isn't on fire but something's going on down there but I can't see through the curtains."

"We're not up here to spy on people," Hermione said primly.

"I'm not spying on anyone," Neville countered as he placed the lens caps on the telescope. "But a flash of fire on a dark night does capture your attention."

Frowning, Hermione walked to the edge of the roof and peered across the vast lawns of Hogwarts towards the groundskeeper's cabin. Curtains obscured any view of the interior (not that she could have made out anything with distinction at over that distance) but a steady light did filter through the windows. The only smoke she saw was coming from the chimney.

"I see what you mean," she said suddenly as she herself saw a flame like flash. "Certainly he isn't doing magic. He's not allowed."

Harry stayed quiet about his own suspicions about Hagrid's pink umbrella and the remains of his broken wand. Hagrid had asked Harry to keep mum about Dudley's curly tail and Harry had kept his word.

"It's nowhere near curfew yet," Ron said. "We can return the telescopes and drop in on Hagrid if you're worried."

Curiosity struggled against the notion that it might be impolite to visit Hagrid uninvited and unannounced at such an hour within Hermione's thoughts. Curiosity won by playing the '_he might be in trouble' _card.Within minutes, the foursome was running across the new growing grass to the cabin on the edge of the forest.

Surprisingly, Fang the Boarhound was lying on some burlap sacks by the garden wall as they approached the cabin. With his usual enthusiasm, the dog bounded around them but retreated back to his makeshift bed as they made their way toward the cabin door.

"That can't be anything but an ill omen," Ron said as he watched Fang scampering away from the cabin.

"Oh, don't be superstitious," Hermione said.

"If an animal is running its just common sense to see if it's charging after something or fleeing from something," Ron answered.

"I believe that is what we're doing," Hermione said as she knocked on the cabin door.

The sounds of breaking crockery was heard as Hagrid creaked open his door the tiniest of fractions.

"Oh, Hermione, fellas. How are you? I don't want to appear rude but this is a bad time for a visit," Hagrid said.

"Hagrid, we saw flames coming from your home. Your dog is cowering in your garden and it sounds as if there's a minor riot going on in your house," Hermione said with her fists on her hips. "I had thought that we had become friends enough for you to trust us to help you if you have difficulties."

Hagrid laughed and stood aside, waving them in. "If I don't let you in, you'll probably just hex the door down, wouldn't you?"

"Of course not," Hermione said as she led the boys into the cabin. "If you had told me to go I would…WHAT IS THAT?"

"Don't shout. You'll frighten Norbert," Hagrid said closing the door quickly.

"Hagrid, that is a dragon," Neville said awed.

"Yeah, I know it is," Hagrid replied grinning. "It is a Norwegian Ridgeback to be exact. I hatched him out myself last week."

Harry got as close as he dared to the beast. The baby reptile looked more like the pterodactyls pictured in a dinosaur book he once read then _Smaug_ did in _The Hobbit_ movie that he saw on the telly. The flare that the others had seen was explained when Norbert suddenly belched flames.

"Good Heavens," Hermione exclaimed. "That creature will burn your house down around your ears before the week is out."

The huge groundskeeper nodded his head, his eyes abruptly misting up. "I know, lass," he said sadly. "I've always wanted a dragon but the reality is that they can't be housebroken. Trouble is that he's too young. If I release him now, without any mother to watch over him, he'll be dead in no time."

"Can't you just make a pen for him outside?" Harry asked.

"Private ownership of a dragon is illegal in this country, Harry," Ron explained. "Illegal in every country, in fact, but China and Thailand. Hagrid has got to keep him under wraps."

"So you legally can't keep him and you morally can't let him loose," Harry said to Hagrid.

"Right in one," he said. "I've stepped in it this time without my boots on, to be sure. Dumbledore will have no choice to fire me seeing as I'll have a hard time doing my job from jail."

"We won't let you go to jail," Harry said promptly. "We just have to think of something."

"Can you hide him in the forest somewhere?" Neville asked.

"No, a dragon would disrupt the local ecosystem," Hagrid said. "And the forest is home to too many creatures for me to arbitrarily put anything in there."

"How in the world did you get a dragon, anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Won him, I did," Hagrid said. "Playing cards with a chap down at the _Hog's Head _a couple of weeks back. He put it up to cover a bet. His full house was good but my four treys were better. He didn't seem too upset, come to think on it."

"Well, since we are probably all ready accessories after the fact, let's go for aiding and abetting, shall we." Hermione said. "Do you think that Charlie can take Norbert here?"

"I know that they raise some of the more endangered species of dragon from hatchlings in an attempt to increase the number that reach adulthood so they have the know how," Ron said. "What do you think, Hagrid?"

"Sounds like a sensible idea, to me," Hagrid answered. "Owl Charlie right away."

"Ah, if I may," Neville said. "You don't have the time for owls. Is your fireplace hooked up to the Floo Network? If it is, I'd spring for the cost of an international call."

It took nearly an hour to finally reach Charlie Weasley. The call was connected from Scotland to Romania through England, Belgium, Germany, and Hungary. Ron feared eavesdroppers so they kept the wording vague. Charlie was quick on the uptake, however.

"Yeah, I remember your interest in boarhounds when I was there, Hagrid," Charlie said. "I'd love to have one of the pups. Tell you what to do. I have some friends visiting me this weekend. If you could have the pup up on the highest tower Saturday around midnight, they can pick it up for me. Save you the trouble of sending it yourself."

"Thanks, Charlie," Hagrid said. "I love the little fella but they grow so quickly and I do have Fang here."

"Yeah, they grow like weeds," Charlie answered with a chuckle. "Glad to hear that old Fang is still alive. How does he like the newcomer?"

"He hasn't been inside for a week now," Hagrid replied.

"Fang was always one smart dog," Charlie laughed. "Mum and Dad say that you're doing great, Ron. I'm proud of you. Don't be a stranger. You can reverse the charges occasional."

"Thanks," Ron said blushing slightly from his brother's praise.

"I'm out," Charlie said as his image disappeared from the fireplace.

Hermione looked at the hearth for a few moments then spoke. "I know that this must be hard for you Hagrid but you know that it's for the best," she said gently.

"I know," he replied. "It's been a bit rough on me lately. Something's been killing unicorns and I haven't been able to track it down I guess that's why I didn't really think this dragon thing though."

"It will soon be over with and with no one the wiser," Ron said.

"I'm getting off lucky and no doubt about it," Hagrid said. "If I can just keep Norbert from burning me out of house and home for the next three days and somehow get up to the tallest tower without being caught… oh, who am I kidding? I can't be missed by the most shortsighted person. Might as well confess now and get it over with."

"I can get up there unseen without any problem," Harry said.

"Thanks, lad but no," Hagrid said. "If you're caught then you'll be facing more then just school trouble. As Ron said, this is a criminal act. I can't allow you four to do more then you have done all ready. Actually you best be going; curfew isn't to far off."

"I have an invisibility cloak," Harry argued. "I won't be caught."

"We won't be caught," Ron said. "It'll take two of us to handle the crate."

"WE won't be caught," Neville corrected. "Harry and I are the same height. That'll make it easier to cover the both of us."

"Sorry, Stretch, but Neville makes a good point," Hermione said to the tall redhead.

"The only point is that none of you are doing this," Hagrid snapped.

"Yes, we are," Hermione answered sweetly. "You can argue about it long enough to make us break curfew but, in the end, we are doing this for you. Your job will be to make a suitable crate; possibly something with poles across the top to allow the riders to rest the crate on their brooms."

The massive man stared hard at the little bushy haired girl who simply smiled back at him. Finally, he threw up his arms.

"You are a hardheaded young woman. I don't deserve such friends," He said. "Now get yourselves back to the castle. I have a crate to build."


	11. chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** De karaters, de plaatsen, en de percelen behoren tot J. K. Rowling en haar uitgevers. Ik bezit niets. Ik eis niets.

Chapter 11

It was a glorious Saturday afternoon in the Scottish Highlands. Sunshine poured down from a cloudless azure sky enfolding all beneath in a warm gentle hug. Birds of every description darted from lawns to trees to lake shore in a frenzy of courtship and nesting. Insects buzzed and hummed among the newly opened blossoms whose fragrances teased the noses of those who took the time to notice the world about them. The streams, pregnant with the season's rains, noisily rushed down from the mountains following their ancient beds to feed the ever hungry lake that adjoined the historic castle that housed the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The extensive lawns of the academy teemed with playing, exuberant children. The skies above them were scarcely less full with broom riders: some of whom were engaged in various competitions with one another but most were riding singly or in groups for the simple joy of flight and of the return of spring.

Most of the older students as well as a goodly number of the staff and faculty were in the nearby village of Hogsmeade, the only all wizarding village in Britain. There they were sampling the pleasures and goods that the town had to offer and basking in the change of environment. The narrow lanes of the village looked as if they were highways after so many weeks of being cooped up in the castle.

The only ones who remained in the castle were the ghosts, the house elves, and some of the older teenagers who found that the emptiness of the dorms allowed them a leisurely pace to explore pleasures of a more carnal nature. Madame Pomfrey kept a basket of condoms just inside the hospital door where they could be acquired quickly and discretely for just such occasions.

Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Ron were sitting behind Hagrid's cabin where he had built a small courtyard. Since it was where the Groundskeeper did most of his entertaining, there was furniture that he built with average sized people in mind. The four children did not seemed dwarfed as they did on the chairs and benches inside his home. Hagrid himself was broiling hamburgers on a stone grill. The one he was making for himself would have difficulty fitting into most pie pans.

Harry played the flute that Hagrid had carved for him for Christmas while his three classmates devoured crisps and downed homebrewed cherry soda. They were quick to applaud when the final note of _Greensleeves_ was sounded, however.

"You know, lad, I never expected you to learn to play that thing," Hagrid said. "It was just something for Christmas but I must say that was more then fairly well done for someone who has only been playing for three odd months."

"Thank you," Harry replied. "I find that it relaxes me so I practice every day. I start playing and my cares just vanish so it's a rare evening that Neville and I don't practice for an hour or so. Of course it helps having Sir Nicholas as an instructor. He's always around if I have any difficulty."

"I didn't know that you play the flute, too, Neville," Hagrid said.

"I don't," Neville replied. "I'm learning the guitar. Professor Snape is instructing me. He saw me carrying my guitar one day and we began to talk about music. He is actually teaching eight of us first formers. We meet twice a week down in the dungeon. Draco Malfoy is probably the best of us so far. He has such long fingers. Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw, and Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff are the others."

"That's only seven," Hermione said.

"Oh, Daphne Greengrass from Slytherin," Neville amended.

"Any particular reason you failed to mention her?" Hermione teased. A slight blush came to Neville's cheeks gave silent witness to the accuracy of Hermione's guess.

"You could have knocked me over with a feather when Neville told me that Professor Snape had offered to teach him guitar," Ron laughed. "I mean the man knows his potions and no doubt about it but he's the last man on earth that I would have ever suspected to be musical."

"I think that music is instinctive in all of us," Hermione said. "The only ones who don't express it in some form are those who are too self conscious about it."

"You're probably right, lass," Hagrid agreed as he flipped the burgers on the grill. "I've heard Severus play on many occasions. I know how talented he is but if you want to really hear some music have Professor Dumbledore play his fiddle sometime. The man's been sawing on that thing for over a hundred and forty years and it shows. Chamber music, jigs, ballads, it don't matter; he can play them all. He always says that his biggest regret is that Hogwarts no longer has a student symphony."

"Why don't we?" Hermione asked.

Hagrid shrugged his massive shoulders. "So few students seem to play or have any interest in playing instruments, nowadays. And there are so many fewer students then sixty, seventy years ago."

"We were talking about that the other day," Harry said. "Empty rooms you would expect in such a huge place but there are so many more that were obviously used as class rooms at one time."

"These are about done so get those rolls cut in half, will ya," the gamekeeper said. "The sad fact of the matter is that there are less then a third of the students here then there were in my day."

"I sometimes think that we wizards are as mindlessly bent on extinction as the giants seem to be," he continued as he placed the sizzling burgers on a dish and passed them to Neville. "Grindelwald's rise seems to have marked the beginning of a dark age for Magical Britain. Dark wizards have spawn in swarms this century. So many have died in the struggles and some many more have fled to other countries."

"I sometimes wonder if the muggles in Canada are even a majority there anymore what with so many wizard families that have settled there. I'm sure that they aren't in British Columbia. There are more wizards per square foot in Vancouver then in Diagon Alley," Hagrid said as he sat down. "God's truth, if it wasn't for Dumbledore, I'd probably have moved to Canada myself but as long as he's still here, I've got hope for the future."

Hamburgers were quickly constructed and more crisps were poured out on to plates to take up residence by the burgers. Hagrid passed up soda for a tankard of ale. The occasional bee buzzed the table but most choose to land by the small puddle of soda that Ron had spilt on the stone wall that surrounded the garden.

Hermione inhaled deeply. "Outdoor grilled food. Spring has finally arrived."

"Yeah, I thought that winter was going to stay forever," Ron said.

"You're in the high up mountains now," Hagrid said. "Winter comes sooner and stays longer then in the lowlands."

"All though it's only now getting warm it's not that far from end of term, really," Hermione replied. "I can't believe how much I've learned so far and it's only the first year. What will I be like when I finish here?"

"I know what you mean," Harry said. "A few months ago, I was a nothing living in a cupboard. Now I'm a wizard learning magic, flying on a broom, brewing potions, all sorts of things I never dreamt of."

"Don't forget about smuggling dragons out of the country and finding three headed dogs," Ron injected humourously.

"Three headed dogs?" Hagrid exclaimed. "Have you seen Fluffy?"

"If you mean that giant dog on the third floor then yes, all four of us have," Hermione answered.

"You named that beast _Fluffy?_" Ron asked.

"He had to have a name, didn't he," Hagrid said.

"What is Fluffy guarding?" Neville asked. "We often wondered."

"Is it that package from Gringott's?" Harry asked.

"Now, look here," Hagrid said. "What ever Fluffy is guarding is none of your concern. It's between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel."

"Is he still alive?" Harry asked in a stunned voice.

"What do you mean; is he still alive?" Hermione asked.

"Nicholas Flamel was an alchemist friend of my ancestor Owen Potter," Harry answered. "According to the _House of Potter_ Flamel was around three hundred years old when he and Owen first met in 1630."

"So he must have created a philosopher's stone a long time before Owen did," Hermione said. "And now that stone is resting under the watchful eyes of Fluffy, isn't it?"

Hagrid lowered his head. "I swear one day I'm gonna take a vow of silence. Yes, that's what Fluffy is guarding."

"But why?" Neville asked. "

"Voldemort," Hermione said simply. "If the stone can do half of what I've read it can do it could probably bring him back from what ever quasi living state he's in now. He or any of his followers wouldn't hesitate to do any crime to get their hands on what is probably the only philosopher's stone in existence."

"The troll at Halloween makes sense, now," Neville said.

"A diversion," Ron said. "Someone all ready inside Hogwarts is working for Voldemort trying to get the stone."

"Codswallop!" Hagrid spat. "Who at Hogwarts would do such a thing?"

Ron shook his head. "While I know some of the kids here had or have parents that were Death Eaters, I honestly can't imagine anyone here being a follower of the Dark Lord but it makes sense."

"Not sense but nonsense," Hagrid countered. "Besides, the rumours put you know who in the Balkans and he's not the sort to trust underlings with that powerful of an object."

For several minutes the only sounds heard were chewing noises and songbirds. The four children and the gamekeeper took counsel with their own thoughts. Harry, like Ron, could not think of anyone at Hogwarts in league with someone who had killed his parents and tried to kill him. To be sure there were people that Harry found to be disagreeable but not evil.

"Voldemort isn't in the Balkans but near here," Ron said suddenly breaking the silence. "You and Dumbledore and every teacher here certainly must know it."

"How do you figure that, me boy-o?" Hagrid asked an odd undercurrent to his voice.

"I have three older brothers with a great interest in magical creatures," Ron began. "I suppose that I've picked up a fair amount listening to them talk all these years. Those unicorns that have been killed; they weren't just killed and left there were there nor were they eaten. Instead, they had their blood drank. Am I right?"

"And if you are?" Hagrid asked tonelessly.

"To drink unicorn blood is to become horribly cursed and only the most desperate of wizards would dare do such a thing but it will keep you alive no matter how injured you are," Ron said.

"And who if not Voldemort would dare such a thing?" Neville finished.

Hagrid slowly ran both hands through his hair and then locked them behind his head. He seemed to tense every muscle in his body then he slowly relaxed them. He folded his great arms on the table.

"You kids are too clever by half. There should be a fifth house for the likes of you. Now please, on our friendship, listen to me. Vol…Voldemort is probably hiding nearby. Professor Dumbledore believes so and has increased the all ready numerous protective spells around Hogwarts. Nicholas Flamel's philosopher's stone was brought here from Gringotts to keep it out of harm's way. Fluffy is only the first of many things guarding the stone."

He looked at each of the four in turn. "I don't need to tell you how dangerous Voldemort or his followers are. You each know the lengths to which they'll go. Keep your curiosity on your school subjects and out of this business."


	12. chapter 12

**_Disclaimer:_** The baby doesn't even look like me. I don't own these characters or the basic plot. The characters and plots belong to J. K. Rowling and her publishers. We will wait for the DNA test but the baby girl looks like Gregory Goyle if you ask me.

**Chapter 12**

"Longbottom," Professor Snape called out as the students began to file from the classroom. "I want to speak with you, Granger, Potter, and Weasley. Malfoy and Greengrass, you two, also."

Seamus gave Harry a 'what did you do now' look. Harry shrugged in silent response.

"Tuesday week, as an end of the year event," Professor Snape began as the door was shut behind the last student. "My guitar students will give a recital for the rest of the student body. The eight of you will perform several pieces together. Nothing new; just some of the ones that we have learned in our sessions so far. Then each House will perform at least three pieces of their choice, so Draco, Daphne, you two decide upon what you will play and let me know by tomorrow. That gives each of you a week to practice what you have chosen. We don't want any repletion among the selections of the four houses."

"Yes, sir," the two Slytherins answered in unison.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Neville," The potions master continued. "Since you are the only one of my students from Gryffindor, you can either perform as a solo act or with your three companions here with whom I am told that you have formed a group."

Neville glanced quickly at his friends. "If they don't mind," he said. "I would like them with me."

Harry nodded as Ron said, "I'm in."

"If you're certain that you don't want to be a solo, sure," Hermione said.

"Let me know your song selections by Monday and I expect that there be a heavy guitar component in whatever you pick," The Professor said. "You are dismissed."

The six students had reached the door when Professor Snape called out. "By the way, I forgot to mention. The headmaster has agreed to award to each student performing in the recital thirty points."

A chorus of gratitude rang out as the students filed into the hallway. Draco and Daphne, already arguing over songs, turned left toward the Slytherin dormitory. The Gryffindors turned right toward the stairway that would take them to their tower.

"That sly fox," Ron laughed.

"Definitely a backdoor way of giving us our lost points back," Hermione agreed.

Neville frowned. "Everyone there is going to get thirty points. I don't think that it was done just to give us those points back."

"I'm sure that the recital would have taken place any way and that the students would have been rewarded in some fashion," Ron said. "But to just happen to choose thirty points as the award for each performer and his only Gryffindor student just happens to play regularly with three other Gryffindor and he and those three just happened to have had one hundred and twenty points taken away in a misunderstanding at the beginning of the year. Those are some long odds, mate."

"Do you really think that is what he's doing?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Hermione replied. "He can't just say 'here's one hundred twenty points. Sorry about that.' But look, Neville is learning guitar from him and is ranked twelfth among his first form students in Potions. I'm second, Harry, you're sixth, and Ron is tenth pending, of course, the results of the finals. We are damned good students and certainly don't deserve having all those points taken from us."

"I think that we probably deserved the loss of some points that day," Ron chuckled. "How do I rank in my other classes?"

"Don't you ever look at the postings?" Hermione asked amazed.

"As long as I learning something and passing the exams, I'm happy," Ron answered.

"You should always strive to be the best," Hermione said.

"I should and do always strive to **_do_** my best," Ron answered. "That's a hippogriff of a different colour."

Hermione was silent for a few seconds thinking about what Ron had said. "I'll accept that," She finally said. "If you do try your best, that should be all that can be expected of you but aren't you the least bit curious about where you stand with the rest of your form?"

"Who am I racing against?" Ron asked.

"Forget it," Hermione said half-amused, half-exasperated with her friend's casual attitude toward academic competition. "What should we play for the concert?"

The Tuesday in question turned out to be a warm clear day with more then a hint of summer in the air although a steady light breeze kept the temperatures pleasant. So much so that the recital was moved outdoors and lunch became an all school picnic out on the lawns. Brightly coloured and checker patterned blankets were spread before a simple wooden meter high platform. Eight chairs and eight music stands were arranged in a crescent on the stage.

Sandwiches, salads, and pies were in carefully packed baskets that the students pick up on their way out to the concert. Glasses and spill proof pitchers of pumpkin juice, soda, milk, and water were waiting on the students on a long table set up on the edge of the picnic area.

The festive atmosphere broke down the usual barriers as students from all four houses freely mixed together. This was especially true among the younger students who hadn't the years of house competition under their belts yet. Formal school robes were discarded in favour of jeans and tee shirts although Professor McGonagall did made Fred and George change their shirts for she felt that _Quidditch Players Do It on Broomsticks _and _Pull My Wand_ to be inappropriate slogans for Gryffindors to wear.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron spread their blanket on the periphery of the throng of scholars. They decided to wait until after they performed to eat. Like most of their classmates, the trio opted for blue jeans and trainers. Hermione wore a light yellow blouse and a _Gryffindor Lions_ visor. Ron had on a red Gryffindor tee shirt (a birthday gift from Hermione) and Harry, who was just getting over a cold, had chosen a black sweatshirt with Hogwarts written across the front in silver letters. Both of the boys had on red ball caps with a golden lion's head emblazoned on the front.

Ron stretched out and pulled his cap down over his eyes. Hermione sat with her legs tucked beneath her as Harry sat cross-legged. Both watched the crowd with interest.

"They look eager to hear the music," Harry ventured

"We will turn them into a howling mob out for our blood once we start," Ron drawled from his supine position.

"We will not," Hermione said. "_Top of the Pops _won't be begging for us to appear but I think that we're pretty good."

Percy, carrying a basket in one hand; the other was wrapped around the waist of his girlfriend Penelope Clearwater, walked over to the trio. Surprisingly even Percy had put on causal clothes. Black jeans and trainers contrasted nicely with an orange _Chudley Cannons_ tee shirt. Penelope wore a sky blue sun dress and was barefooted. That the buttoned down Percy and the hippie chick Penelope had become romantically involved during the spring was still the talk of the upper forms.

"Good luck, you three," Percy said. "Give my well wishes to Neville, too, when you see him."

"Rock on," Penelope said.

"Thanks"

"Sure"

Hermione waited until the pair was out of earshot before she spoke.

"She must be crazy not to wear shoes out here. It'll take here a week to get the grass stains off her feet."

"Not with Percy to help her," Ron laughed.

"Ron!" Hermione said scandalized. "You shouldn't spread rumours like that."

"Well, true, I have no undeniable proof," Ron admitted drolly. "But when my very uptight brother suddenly is bouncing along hallways whistling and two or three times a week he takes a two hour bath in the prefects private bathing room and he absolutely disappears on weekends all along the same time he started dating what is known in some circles as one hot babe, I just naturally jump to one conclusion."

Whatever reply Hermione was going to make was interrupted by applause as Albus Dumbledore stepped on to the stage.

"There is no need to applaud me. I am not grading your exams," the Headmaster quipped. He waited for the ripple of laughter to die before he continued. "I am very pleased to have this gathering today. Music, at one time not too terrible long ago, was an intricate part of the curriculum here at Hogwarts. Music, in and of itself, is a kind of magic but there is also a branch of magic that is accomplished through music. It is no longer taught here but still continues to be taught at our sister institution of Beauxbatons. Perhaps today's concert is a step toward bringing back music to Hogwarts. If any of you today feel inspired to take up music, speak with your heads of house. If we can get enough interest, I hope to convince the Ministry to allow me to hire both voice and instrument teachers. Now, here's the teacher of today's musicians, Professor Snape."

Professor Snape walked out on to the stage and shook Dumbledore's hand. The headmaster leaned toward Snape and whispered something which brought a small smile to Snape's face. With a wave to the crowd, Dumbledore bounded off the stage with all the energy of his teenaged charges.

"The entire ensemble will play for an half an hour," Snape began his dark eyes scanning the crowd.. "Then they will break up into their houses and each house then will perform a few songs each. Applause is good; catcalls will answer to me. So, without further adieu, let's bring out the music!"

The eight beginning guitarists walked out on stage to huge applause. Everyone was appreciative of the afternoon off and they wanted to stay on Snape's good side.

It was soon apparent that Snape taught guitar using classical music. Bach, Carulli, and Sor dominated the selections that the ensemble played. It was also soon apparent that the octet had put much effort into their lessons. The music was basic but they played it well and with heart. The ovation that they received at the end of the half hour had nothing to do with the fear of Professor Snape.

"We best be getting up to the stage," Hermione said as she grabbed her bodhran and stood. "I don't believe him!"

"What is it?" Harry asked as he arose.

"He fell asleep," Hermione answered as she prodded Ron with her foot. "Come on, Ron. We're due on stage."

With a grunt, Ron woke up. "How were they?"

"They were good now come on."

Professor Snape returned to the stage clapping his hands. He quietly spoke to the eight. Happy grins appeared on all their faces, even on Draco's who was doing his best to appear nonchalant about the event. Neville remained on stage as the others filed off.

"Gryffindor will be the first of the houses to perform," Professor Snape announced as he stepped to the front of the stage. "Since Longbottom was the only Gryffindor in the troupe, I have allowed him to be joined by three of his fellow Gryffindors today."

Hermione, Harry, and Ron, instruments in hand, walked out to center stage, waving at their cheering classmates.

"Just sing normally," the Potion master told them. "The stage is enchanted so all can hear you. Now earn those points."

The four looked at each other as Professor Snape left the platform. Hermione finally stepped forward.

"I hope that you all like Scottish folk songs," she said. "One, two three, four."

The quartet launched into _Wha'll be King but Charlie?_ Neville sang lead with Hermione and Harry harmonizing on the chorus.

They played the haunting _I climb the Mountain _next. Hermione sang solo on that tune while the boys played their instruments.

Harry took the lead vocal for the group's third song which was _Mist__Covered__Mountains_

Amazed at the size of the ovation, the _fab four _bowed deeply. The rest of the students were still cheering when Professor Snape returned to the stage.

"Do you know another song?" he asked.

"Quite a few," Hermione answered.

"Well, then keep playing," He said and walked off stage.

_Tramps and Hawkers_ was followed by _Wild Mountain Thyme _then _Scotland__ the Brave._ After which, Snape finally ushered them off stage.

"Well, done," he said. "But one more Scottish tune and Minerva will grab a claymore and invade England."

Beaming, the four quickly left the stage. Professor McGonagall, Hagrid and a fair portion of their housemates were waiting for them back at their blanket.

With an uncharacteristic display of emotion, Professor McGonagall hugged each of them in turn. Those that weren't being hugged were having their hands shook or getting slaps on the back.

"I bet the others aren't half ticked that you guys went first," Seamus said.

"Thanks," Neville replied modestly. 'But you haven't heard Slytherin yet. Draco and Daphne are very good."

After a few moments, the adulation died down and the attention shifted to the act on stage or to peppering Professor McGonagall with questions about possible music lessons next year. The _fab four_ settled down with Hagrid to listen to the Hufflepuff trio work their way through some classical and baroque waltzes. Sandwiches disappeared rapidly from their basket as Ernie, Hannah, and Susan serenaded them.

"You need to bring Fluffy out on a day like this," Hermione said. "I feel sorry for him cooped up in that small room."

"It's a good thing Fluffy isn't out here to hear this," Hagrid said after taking a long draught out of the jug his was carrying. "He'd be asleep for a week."

"They are pretty good," Harry said defensively. "And I think that we weren't bad either."

"No, lad, you were great, honestly," Hagrid said with a laugh. "It's just that play Fluffy a bit of music and out he goes, sleeping like a babe."

The four looked at each other but said nothing.

The Hufflepuff trio acquitted themselves well and then gave way to the two from Ravenclaw. Anthony and Padma played competently but Padma's voice had a husky quality to it that arrested the ear turning what were very simple songs into something worth listening to.

Neville had his words proven true when the pair of Slytherins took the stage. They were dressed in near identical black slacks, black boots, and ruffled black shirts.

"ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?" Daphne screamed as the students cheered. And rock they did.

Daphne was _Rolling Stones _fan and had introduced Draco to their music. Their fellow students, most of who had never heard the songs written by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, wildly roared their approval as Daphne and Draco performed _Ruby Tuesday, Paint it Black, As Tears go By, Wild Horses, Angie, Beast of Burden, Not Fade Away, _and_ Jumpin' Jack Flash. _They alternated between playing lead and rhythm guitar seamless although Draco sang lead on every song.

"Are your sure that they have only been playing for a few months," Hermione asked as she applauded with the rest of the school.

"No," Neville answered. "Daphne only took up the guitar last autumn as did Draco but she's been playing the mandolin since she was six and Draco began the piano and harpsichord when he was four so both have been learning music for several years now."

"It shows," Ron said. "Even if the rest of us would have been booed of the stage, those two alone would have helped Dumbledore's hopes of increasing interest in music. Don't you think so, Harry?"

"Oh yeah, they're gas, gas, gas."


	13. chapter 13

**Disclaimer**: Les caracteres et la parcelle de terrain qui forment la base de cette histoire sont la propriete de J. K. Rowling et ses editeurs, Cette histoire et ecrite sans l'esperance du gain financier. Je ne fais aucune reclamation de la propriete. Je suis un simplement certain idiot qui perd son temps au lieu d'investir ses efforts dans des poursuites plus fructueuses.

Chapter 13

Harry awoke with a start. Unseeing eyes darted in every direction in an attempt to place where he was. He felt as if his head was literally going to split open from the pain coming from his scar.

"Are you all right, Harry?"

Harry turned his eyes toward the voice. Slowly, as his breathing and pulse returned to normal, Hermione came into focus. She was sitting across from him in an old worn high back chair with a look of concern on her face.

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry answered in a shaky voice. "I feel as if I just awoke from a nightmare but I don't think that I was dreaming."

Hermione nodded her understanding. "I guess that at one time or another everyone has suddenly awoken in panic without any idea as to why."

He gave her a weak smile clutching his flute in his right hand as if it were a talisman. He closed his eyes and willed the fear to depart. He was in the Gryffindor common room high in a tower of Hogwarts Castle possibly the safest place on Earth he told himself as he slowly rubbed his scar with his free hand. He was surrounded by people who actually cared for him and his wellbeing. He had nothing to fear. After all, he was the _Boy Who Lived_ was he not?

When Harry opened his eyes again the smile on his face was a genuine one. He saw Hermione relax and felt guilty for causing her worry.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," she replied.

"Then thank you for caring," Harry said.

Hermione looked at Harry strangely. "You're welcome, Harry, but that's just what friends do."

"I've never had friends before," Harry said apologetically. "It's still an unreal idea to me sometimes. I don't have the words to express how much that this year at Hogwarts has meant to me. I guess my parents loved me but no one in my memory has ever given a damn about whether I lived or died. The best days at my aunt's were days that everyone just ignored me. Yet here at Hogwarts, I don't wake up and wonder if I am going to eat today or who is going to beat me up during recess. I actually have friends. I have teachers to whom I am not just another face to be talked at. I could die now and die happy."

"Damn, Harry!" Hermione barked fiercely. "I was raised never to wish ill on any one but when I see what your relatives have done to you; I find it very hard not to fly down to Surrey and play the wicked witch on their asses!"

Harry laughed at the sudden mental picture of her in stereotypical witches garb throwing lightning bolts at the Dursleys as they scampered around their lawn.

"Hermione, they aren't worth the breath it would take to utter a curse," Harry said. "But it's enough for me to know that you want to do something like that for me."

"Ron and Neville feel the same way," Hermione said. "We have often tried to determine a way around the restrictions against underage magic and lay a few curses on your family at King's Crossing and bundle you off to one of our homes."

"Thank you, Hermione," a nearly misty eyed Harry replied. "But they really aren't worth a single detention let alone what ever the punishment they hand down for cursing muggles in a train station."

"Is your headache gone, now, or should I mix up a potion for you?" Hermione asked.

"I didn't have a headache," Harry answered. "My scar was hurting but that's gone now, thank you."

"Does it hurt you often?" Hermione asked curiously.

"No, it's pretty rare in fact," Harry asked. "It hurt on Halloween, I remember. It hurt somewhat during the Sorting Ceremony of all times. The Hat was debating where to put me. It couldn't make up its mind whether I should go to Gryffindor or Slytherin. Nothing against Slytherin, mind you, but by then you and Neville were already sorted into Gryffindor so I favored going there and hoped that Ron would be sorted there also. It was weird but it was almost like the scar was screaming that I should going to Slytherin, if you know what I mean."

"Your _scar_ was talking to you?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"No, of course not," Harry chuckled. "You know it's like when you debate yourself in your mind. You don't really form words and banter them back and forth; you just sort of bounce feelings back and forth except it sort like me arguing with the scar. I'm not saying this right. Like I said, I just don't have the words to say it properly."

"I understand what you are trying to say though," Hermione answered. "Maybe this summer we'll work on improving you vocabulary."

"This summer?" Harry said surprised.

"You didn't think that I would go all summer without writing you or Neville or Ron, did you?" Hermione asked.

"It honestly never occurred to me." Harry replied. "As I said, friends are new to me."

"I know Ron has asked his parents if you could spend part of the summer with them," Hermione said. "The three of us discussed the subject and decided that his home would be the best for you."

"Oh and why was it?" Harry asked.

"Lots of boys, countryside, and a Mother who's a full time homemaker," Hermione replied a matter-of-factly. "I love you, Harry, and wouldn't mind having you at my house but there is simply more for a boy your age to do at Ron's. Besides, Ron's dad thinks he can hook up my parent's fireplace to the floo network temporarily every few weeks so I can visit. If not maybe my parents will drive down to Devon."

"I love you, too Hermione," Harry said then frowned. "You know, I haven't the foggiest idea where you're from. I don't think that you have ever said so."

"I'm from Oxford," Hermione answered. "My mum was born and raised in Leicester and my father was from Coventry. They met at the school of dentistry at the University of Birmingham. They married after graduation, set up a practice in Oxford where I was born some four years later. There you have it, Hermione Granger in a nutshell."

"So we grew up not so far apart," Harry said.

"Just two kids in muggle homes whose destiny would take them to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Hermione said whimsically.

"You're in a good mood tonight," Harry observed.

Hermione richly laughed. "After this afternoon, I'll probably be giddy for the whole summer. I had so much fun playing for everyone and they genuinely seemed to enjoy our songs."

Harry looked down at his flute. "It's just air being forced through holes but Dumbledore was right; there is a kind of magic to music."

"_Is it not strange that sheep's' guts should hale souls out of men's bodies?"_ Hermione quoted.

"Huh?"

She smiled broadly. "It's a line from Shakespeare's _Much __Ado__ about Nothing._ I always thought it was funny because of the contrasting imagery. You see, back in those days strings for guitars and lutes and whatnot were made from animal entrails so that which produced such beautiful sounds came from a rather disgusting source."

"That's gross," Ron said as he and Neville joined them in their out of the way nook of the common room.

"Life is full of disgusting bits but life is beautiful none the less," Hermione replied.

"Did you get in the way of a cheering charm?" Neville asked.

"No, good Master Longbottom, I simply woke up to another day at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "As much as I'll be glad to see my parents, I'll miss Hogwarts."

Ron shook his head as he plopped down onto the rug and leaned back against Hermione's chair as Neville sat on an ottoman he slid over to the others.

"So, what have we been talking about other then animal guts?" asked Ron.

"It's been terrible," Harry said straight faced. "Hermione keeps saying profanities."

"No way!"

"Way."

Ron craned his neck around. "C'mon Hermione, talk dirty some more."

"We were talking about Harry's family," Hermione said.

Ron's face darkened. "It's not profanity when talking about that bunch. I've never met them but I dislike them anyway."

"Thanks," Harry said. "But like I told Hermione they aren't worth the sweat off of a rat's bum. Don't waste your time thinking about them."

Neville nodded. "That's the best attitude, Harry. Hatred can only shackle you."

"That's what I've learned this year," Harry said. "The Dursleys treated me like a piece of dung and I came to believe that that is what I was. I realize now that I am something more. Uncle Vernon can lock me in a hundred cupboards and Aunt Petunia can scream at me until she's purple but they can't imprison my soul again. They can only destroy their own."

"Well, there'll be no cupboards this summer, mate," Ron said. "You'll be coming to _The Burrow. _Mum talked with, no, make that Mum harangued Dumbledore until he finally relented. You have to stay with the Dursleys for two weeks but we'll be over to pick you up the third Saturday of June. That is if you want to, of course."

"I'm there," Harry said excitedly. "But why the two weeks and who is Dumbledore to say where I go and what I do during the summer?"

"Harry, in many ways you're like the Royals," Neville explained. "You're _The Boy Who Lived._ You have no idea what you truly mean to Magical Britain and as such you are somewhat communal property. Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic will have a great deal of say about your actions until you are grown. It sucks but that's just the way it is."

Harry glanced over to Ron. "He's probably got the right of it, Harry."

"That's silly," Hermione snapped. "They dumped him in Surrey and forgot about him for eleven years."

"What?" Harry asked as he caught the glance that passed between Neville and Ron.

"I may be wrong but I doubt if there were five minutes in your life since that night that you weren't being watched," Neville said quietly.

"You must be joking," Harry said not willing to accept the ramifications of Neville's words.

"Harry, they got a giant three headed dog and who knows what else guarding a magic rock," Ron said. "Yet the Ministry would hand over a philosopher's stone without a moment's hesitation to ransom you."

Harry couldn't put it in words but Hermione did. "The Ministry and Dumbledore knew how the Dursleys were treating Harry and they did nothing."

"I can say absolutely but it's almost a dead cert." Ron answered.

"That's monstrous," Hermione gushed.

Harry's thoughts were lost in a gamut of emotion. He could not believe that Dumbledore could have so callously allowed his situation to continue for all those years. He could forgive the Dursleys but Harry wasn't sure that he could overlook this. He abruptly stood.

"I am going to ask Dumbledore, himself, if it's true," Harry announced.

The others began to rise but Harry stopped them. "Please, I want to do this alone."

Ron and Hermione sat back down but Neville stood. "One thing, Harry; I've known Dumbledore all my life as has my Gran. I trust him completely. What ever decisions he made he made with good reason and in good faith."

Harry nodded but said nothing. He walked silently out of the common room and into the halls.

"It's nearly curfew," the Fat Lady said as her portrait closed over the entrance. "Where are you going, dearie?"

"To find out the truth," Harry replied.

"Ah, if there is a more dangerous quest I don't know what it is," The Fat Lady said. "Be careful."

Harry made his way through the corridors. Oddly, he felt calmer with each step. The anger left his mind like water evaporating on a hot day; in its place was mere curiosity.

Harry stopped before a large ugly gargoyle. He had passed the entrance to the Headmaster's office but had never attempted to enter so he was surprised that there was no door or stair well or any other means of access. He started shouting. No doorway appeared but within moments Professor McGonagall did come racing around the corner.

"Mister Potter! What is the meaning of this caterwauling at this time of night?" She asked as she halted in front of Harry.

"I need to speak with the Headmaster, Ma'am," Harry answered.

"You may speak with him in the morning, Mister Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't know what bee is in your bonnet but it will keep. Now get back to the tower. It's nearly curfew."

Harry stared at his head of house for several heartbeats then nodded. "Perhaps a night of sleep is best before asking what I want to know. Good night, Professor."

He walked ten paces and turned. Professor McGonagall was still standing where he had left her. "You have been kind to me and I have learned a lot in your class. Thank you."

She stared down the hall in concern long after Harry had departed. "Albus, I hope that you have kissed the Blarney Stone lately."

The single night's sleep became several. The mangled remains of Professor Quirrell were discovered by Mister Filch early in the morning. Since the Caretaker had ran screaming to the Headmaster's office there was no chance of keeping the event quiet. The entire school was abuzz with stories of giant man eating dogs and ritual sacrifices and other outlandish possibilities. So Harry waited and pondered.

As Harry pondered, exam results came back. In an astounding result for Gryffindor, Harry, Neville, and Ron placed in the top ten students among first formers with Hermione finishing first overall in their form. Fred and George teased Ron endlessly about his test scores but Percy was about to burst with pride.

"Get used to this," he said pinning his prefect's badge on Ron's robe. "You'll be wearing it in a few years,"

The points Hermione received for the honour of being the best student weren't quite enough to overcome Slytherin House's lead and they were awarded the House Cup at the End of the Year banquet. Harry shook Draco's hand and congratulated him as they were leaving the Great Hall that night.

"Hey, Daphne been playing me some recordings from a band called _Jethro Tull_. They used a flute in a lot of their songs," Draco said. "Check them out this summer. Maybe if you learn some of their songs we can play together next year."

It was the final breakfast at Hogwarts for the students before they boarded the train for London. All their bags had been packed and house elves were already hustling their down to the platform.

Hermione, Neville, and Ron sat down at the long Gryffindor table. Harry remained standing.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"It's time to ask a question or two," He replied, staring at Dumbledore at the staff table. Harry walked the length of the hall and stopped before the Headmaster.

"Excuse me, sir," Harry said politely. "But I have a question to ask. Why must I go to the Dursleys instead of to my friend's home?"

"It is for your own protection," Dumbledore replied peering over his half moon glasses.

"How does it protect me and from what it protect me?" Harry asked

Dumbledore looked around the hall at all the students who were unabashedly staring at Harry and him. "Harry, I can not tell you that. You are too young. I am sorry but you will have to accept that answer."

Harry nodded slowly. "Is the house enchanted or are there guards there?"

"Harry, literally blocks around your house are spelled against intrusion and there are always observers nearby just in case. You are very safe with the Dursleys." Dumbledore answered soothingly.

"I have always been guarded?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Dumbledore answered.

Harry stared at the headmaster for a moment then nodded. He pulled off his Hogwarts robe and laid it on the table.

"Good bye, Sir" he said quietly and turned away. Harry heard the chair crash as Dumbledore leaped to his feet.

"Potter, where are you going?" Dumbledore exclaimed. "You can not leave!"

"Am I a prisoner?" Harry asked facing Dumbledore. "Is there a law that says that I must be here? Are you my father who can command me?"

"No, of course not," he replied.

"Then simply tell me why you did what you did."

The headmaster came around the table and walked to Harry's side. Every eye of every student watched the drama; every ear strained to catch the next words. Dumbledore placed a gentle hand on the boy's thin shoulder; his eyes pleading. "This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation, Harry."

"When? Where?"

"In a few years, perhaps."

Harry turned away again.

"Harry, you must trust me in this matter," Dumbledore pleaded. "You were placed with the Dursleys for your own safety. You are alive today because no Death Eater could get near you. Voldemort's minions would have killed you long ago if you were anywhere else."

"You keep asking for my trust yet you refuse to trust me. Thank you for keeping me alive," Harry said and continued to walk away.

"You are the hope of the wizarding community," Dumbledore said.

The thin, bespectacled boy with unruly hair stopped at the doors of the Great Hall. "I'm just an eleven year old boy whom you idly watched being underfed and emotionally abused for ten years. Good bye, sir."


	14. chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** This is a work of fan fiction. The characters and general plot were created by J. K. Rowling and belong to her and her various publishers.

Chapter 14

High in the Cascade Mountains of Canada, the large dining hall of the Black Weasel Lodge was decorated in purple and gray, the school colours of the Cape Caution Magick Institute. A banner had been strung across on wall that read "Congrats to the Grads". The table, covered with deep green cloth, was enormous but every seat was filled. As with every graduation ceremony, it was a celebration of an ending and of a beginning.

Mr. Weasley pushed back his chair and raised his wine glass. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Ron and Harry, graduates with honours from this year's class at C.C.M.I."

A chorus of 'Here, Here' echoed though out the vast hall. Ron and Harry grinned at each other as family and friends toasted them. It had been a long and often difficult seven years getting to that point for the young men and their family.

The Ministry of Magic attempted legal steps to keep Harry at Hogwarts following his dramatic departure but Harry circumvented them by bribing Vernon and Petunia Dursley into signing guardianship of Harry over to a more then willing Arthur and Molly Weasley. It cost the Weasleys several lifelong friendships and Mr. Weasley his job at the Ministry. Bill and Charlie felt pressure to side with the establishment but familial ties were too strong for them to capitulate to those forces.

It cost Harry his fortune. At his request, Hermione searched the internet for opportunities abroad. A failing ski resort in British Columbia was on the market. Harry convinced the Weasleys to form a partnership with him and buy the place. By the time they had it up and running and monies were laid aside for tuitions, Harry was penniless and he and Ron and the rest of the younger Weasleys had lost a year of school.

They had, however, been fortunate. Having the Weasley's pet rat, Scabbers, seized and carried off by a hawk during their second day there seemed like a bad omen but with the entire family working hard and two good seasons of snowfall, they had remained solvent and the arrival of unforeseen partner with plenty of ready cash during their third year enabled them to purchase of some lakefront property allowing the expansion to year round operations with snow skiing in the winter and fishing and boating in summer (well, year round actually because you know how anglers are).

It was Dumbledore himself who brought Harry and the Weasleys their well heeled partner. He arrived at their front door with Sirius Black, presumed mass murderer and Harry's godfather, at his side. Sirius had escaped Azkaban and Dumbledore vouched for his innocence. Unfortunately, it was an innocence that couldn't be legally proven so hiding out was a necessity. The Cascade Mountains were ideal thus with a few legal documents signed Weasel Ski Lodge became _Black Weasel Lodge and Resort_, complete with its own airstrip. The addition of extra capital as well as a rakishly handsome ski instructor proved to be a boon and Harry had his godfather in his life.

Dumbledore and Harry took the opportunity for a long conversation. Harry never said what passed between him and the ancient wizard but they came back from their walk without any of the old hard feelings on either of their sides. Slowly friends from the old days began to write Arthur and Molly and several even came to the lodge.

To the absolute joy of Harry, Hermione, and Ron, the Doctors Granger had visited the lodge during the first summer that the Weasleys were running the place. They fell in love with western Canada and decided to immigrate. They purchased a practice and settled in Victoria. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were classmates once again, this time at the Cape Caution Magick Institute although Hermione, who hadn't missed a year of schooling, was in the grade ahead of them.

CCMI was different from Hogwarts in that, in addition to the course work in _Ars__ Magica_, the course work expected of all secondary students in Canada was also taught. It made for a demanding workload but it allowed the magical community of Canada blend in more easily with their muggle fellow citizens.

Harry pushed back his chair and stood. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said raising his glass. "I give you, the Earl of Bowland."

If the wall reverberated with the 'here here' of the previous toast, the roof came off with the shouts of 'The Earl of Bowland'.

The extraordinary news had reached Canada and the rest of the wizarding world in January. Neville Longbottom, a quiet, retiring, young wizard with an ancient pedigree had stormed a manor full of Death Eaters leading a team of equally young witches and wizards. The Death Eater threat to Britain was eliminated by the annihilation of the evil cadre with Neville, himself, killing Lord Voldemort.

"He needed killing," was the only comment ever made by Neville to the media which still thought he was in his ancestral manor in England, not in a Canadian ski lodge with his fiancée.

The Minister of Magic was so grateful for the end of the Death Eater menace that he went to the Prime Minister with one request. It was a monumental task to push it through the House of Commons and maintain the needed veil of secrecy but Neville was granted a hereditary peerage. Three weeks previously, Neville Longbottom was created Earl of Bowland (his home district) by the Queen in a clandestine ceremony in Buckingham Palace.

"Speech! Speech!" rang out from several throats. Neville stood up finally, blushing slightly.

He simply raised his glass. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Her Majesty, the Queen." said the ever modest Neville.

After they toasted the Monarch, everyone fell to eating and talking. Nothing of real importance was said. Just the bonds of friendship and family renewed and strengthen by the simple sharing of food and conversation. Harry looked about the table and smiled. He was surrounded by people who loved him. It would be hard to leave here.

Both he and Ron would be leaving soon. In Ron's case, he was accepted at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver where he will rejoin Hermione who just completed her freshman year there.

Harry had surprised everyone by enlisting in the army. He would leave for Quebec in July for basic training.

"I just want a break from school for awhile," he explained at the time.

"You're part owner of a successful resort," Sirius said.

"All the more reason," Harry said. "Canada's been good to me. I owe her some service."

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "Just remember, wizard or no, you're not bulletproof. Put something hard between you and the bad guys."

A few years down the road, in the dangerous mountains of Afghanistan, Harry would find Sirius's words to be very sound advice indeed. He made it home in one piece and hung up his uniform. He joined Ginny in studying at the University of Victoria.

After dinner, the _fab four_ found themselves on a balcony overlooking the forest. The moon peeked around the mountain that loomed above them as a breeze brought them the scent of pines and of the lake.

It's been a long time since the four of us were alone," Harry said.

"_I _did not go anywhere," Neville chuckled.

"Yeah, well, sorry about that," Harry replied.

"When you and your fiancée finally set a date, let us know," Hermione said.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me," Neville said. "I would have forgotten my three oldest friends if you hadn't said anything."

"You're welcome," Hermione deadpanned.

"You know, I don't believe that I ever got around to thanking all of you," Neville said.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other in confusion.

"I'd say you're welcome but I don't know what you're talking about, mate," Ron said.

"The world has anointed me as a hero…"

"You are a hero, Neville," Hermione interrupted.

"Whatever," the newly created Peer continued. "But if it wasn't for that first year together at Hogwarts with you three, I would have never done anything. Gran did her best, bless her, but her brand of child rearing had sapped what confidence I ever had in myself but from the moment I met you three, you encouraged me, built me up."

"I honestly don't remember helping you at all," Harry said.

"You were _The Boy who Lived_ yet you became my friend," Neville replied. "You still have no idea what that meant, do you?"

"No, but whatever it did mean, your commando raid eclipsed it by a wide margin," Harry laughed.

"Well, it meant a lot to me," Neville said. "And about the first thing you ever said to me, Ron, was designed to encourage me and you kept it up all year long as did you Hermione. I could hear your voices for the next six years that I was at Hogwarts. Anytime I faced an obstacle, your voices were there. As prefect and then as Head Boy, I would always ask myself, how would Ron or Hermione or Harry handle this."

"Things could have easily been different," Hermione said. "In primary school, I was considered a bossy know-it-all and was very unpopular and, in hindsight, there was a lot of truth to my class mates taunts. We spent most of the trip through Scotland singing folksongs together; perhaps we wouldn't have bonded so quickly or maybe not at all if we hadn't. Life often turns on small as well as large decisions."

"I think, hell, I know that that concertina changed the course of my life," Ron said. "Somehow learning to play that thing gave me self confidence. I was able to conquer a lot a fears and insecurities before I got to Hogwarts. I would have been a mess, otherwise."

"I know what the effect the three of you had on my life," Harry said. "So I suppose that I'm indebted to that squeezebox, too"

"If I had a glass, I'd toast my beloved concertina," Ron said.

"In case I haven't said so lately, I love you guys," Harry said.

Hermione leaned over and kissed him lightly. "I love you, too, Harry," she said

"Yeah, I love you, mate," Ron said. "But I'm not going to snog you."

"Don't look at me," Neville joked. "I'm still English; I can't say that I love you three as if you were my very blood."

Hermione kissed him. "I'm Canadian now so I can. I love you, Milord Bowland."

"Do I get a kiss?" Ron asked.

"Tongue or no tongue?" asked Hermione wickedly.

"Shall we get some wine, Harry," Neville asked.

"Good idea," Harry said as the two of them beat a hasty retreat from the balcony carefully closing the door behind them.

"It's the mountain air," Harry said

"Really?" Neville asked. "Where's my fiancée?"

Harry laughed. Life was good and tomorrow would be a new day dawning.

THE END

A/N: Once again my sincere thanks to all who took the time to read and review this story. God Bless.


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